


Lost

by Maerjanthra



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Action, Adventure, Blood and Gore, Drama, Emotions, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-02-22 08:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 52
Words: 39,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2501192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maerjanthra/pseuds/Maerjanthra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniela is a 32-year-old woman who lives in the Maritimes, Canada, and gets pushed into a life of hardship and danger against her will. Rating is subject to change as story develops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly follows the plot line of Assassin's Creed Brotherhood by Oliver Bowden.

So many things can happen so fast. One minute you’re enjoying a cup of tea and the next you’re somewhere else entirely.

I’m relaxing with a friend in the country when it starts. We are lounging in a pair of big lawn chairs agreeing to disagree about her upcoming wedding. Sarah wants me to wear turquoise. I much prefer dark plum/grey. I have dark chocolate eyes and hair, cut short, with caramel coloured skin; turquoise is too bright for my colouring. As an athletic 5’6” woman, I really don’t want to look silly in front of all those cameras with my best friend.

“I’m just saying, Daniela, I really like turquoise. It’s bright and cheerful!” She sighs. The bright afternoon sun shimmers off the solitaire gold ring on her left hand. She looks comfortable; lounging in a pair of long pale green linen shorts and white cotton tank top. Bare feet wiggle at the end of long muscular legs. A silver anklet adorns her right ankle. The plastic lounge chair creaks as she shifts to get more comfortable.

“I agree. It’s a nice colour, Sarah, but, I would look very silly wearing it. I do winter colours, Hun. Dark plum and grey would be much better.” I retort. I, too, am relaxing on a plastic lounge chair in my favourite pair of baggy white yoga pants and plain white hooded vest. My bare feet are curled up beneath me.

“Will you at least consider it if I find a tasteful looking dress?” Sarah pleads as she looks at me with her wide blue eyes. Weeks of planning and now we’re stuck on the colour of my dress.

“Sure, if you do the same for dark plum and grey.” I counter with a grin. I don’t dare laugh at her frustrated expression.

“You never give up, Daniela.” Sarah shakes her head in exasperation.

“Where would the fun in that be?” I wink mischievously.

Sarah merely rolls her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Those lawn chairs are actually quite a bit more comfortable than I originally though. We’re back out in them after a homemade dinner of fettuccine alfredo, broiled chicken and garden salad. The temperature dropped a little, so we’re both wrapped up in thick quilts holding crystal wine glasses. An open bottle of Chianti sits on the table between us.

“Cheers!” We chorus as a light ting chimes through the air. “Here’s hoping that this mess gets ironed out and I don’t have to become a ‘Bridezilla’ on you.” Sarah leans back against the back of the chair with her legs crossed; her wine glass resting on her lap, cradled in her right hand.

“Here, here.” I happily second with a wink. “I’ll smack you back to sanity, if you stray. Don’t worry.” I bring my left hand up so I can smell the dark red ambrosia in my glass. A smile stretches my lips at the delicately fruity smell of my wine.

“You’re such a thoughtful friend.” Sarah rolls eyes sarcastically. “Seriously, though, thank you, Daniela. You’re the best.” The latter part rings with sincerity.

“You’re welcome, Sarah.” I smile happily before taking a sip of wine. My eyes slide closed in pleasure as the dry red dances on my tongue. When I open my eyes, everything is blurry like I am looking through a long, narrow tunnel of fog. I see a fleeting image of a figure in white flying through the air between what looked like a couple of old buildings. My head twitches back in confusion and my free hand reaches up to rub my eyes.

“Are you ok, Daniela?” She sounded closer than she had been. “You’re Italian. You haven’t had nearly enough wine to be drunk.” Leave it to Sarah to poke fun at me.

“I’m not sure. One of my contacts must have slipped.” I opened my eyes again as I spoke to find that they’d cleared and I could see, again. “They seem to be ok, now.” I shrugged. I’m horribly confused by what just happened.

“What happened?” She inquired.

“I’m just as lost as you are.” I shook my head as I looked at Sarah. “I was sipping my wine. I closed my eyes to savour the flavour. When I re-opened them, everything was blurry.” I looked back to where I’d seen the figure in white jump across my vision. “You’re not the only one wondering what happened, Sarah.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you sure you’re gonna be ok, Daniela?” My concerned friend asked while leaning in my open car window.

“I don’t exactly have much choice in the matter, Sarah.” I replied. I was arranging my things on the passenger seat and center console for the drive home, not looking at her and hoping that she’d let me leave.

“It’s just that your contacts haven’t ever given you this much trouble. I’m worried about you driving home.” Sarah countered.

“It’s not that bad. I just have to be careful, is all.” I reasoned. Once I had everything settled where I wanted it, I turned to look at her.

“Daniela, you couldn’t see for 15 minutes the last time it happened.” Sarah rubbed her arms.

“I will admit that that was really freaky, but, I can’t stay here forever. I have to go home at some point.”One eyebrow twitched in irritation as I started my car.

“I know. I just wish there was another way to get you home.”

I sighed. “Look, Hun. I know it’s dangerous, but I have to do it.”

Sarah frowned and crossed her arms. “I think you should stay another night. Who knows? Whatever’s affecting you may go away by morning?”

I groaned. Sarah had been trying to convince me to stay a third night for the last few hours and, to be honest, it was getting old. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “If I say I’ll miss you, will you leave me be?” I re-opened my eyes and looked her in the face. "I love ya, Sweetie, but I really am going to be ok. I’ve done this route so many times that I’m positive I could drive it while sleeping.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t drive it while sleeping, Daniela.” Sarah studied my determined face before sighing in resignation. “Fine. Call when you get home?”

“Of course.” I nodded and drove off once Sarah backed away.


	4. Chapter 4

I hadn’t planned it, but, I’m glad I made the drive while church was in. The roads were deserted until I got back to Saint Andrews. Sarah was glad to hear from me but she wasn’t happy to hear that I had to make frequent stops.

I changed from my jeans and t-shirt to a pair of white yoga pants and white sleeveless hoodie. My sandals were swapped for a pair of black socks in a pair of posh white, grey and black Nike Frees. It’s always nice to be home; even if you’re close to questioning your sanity.

I stretched with a contented smile before heading to the bathroom to remove my contacts. I didn’t wear them while alone at home. They irritated my eyes too much and I was curious to know if they were the reason behind everything going blurry. That done, I turned to head down the hallway to go outside and exercise in the back yard.

Half way there, my vision faded to white and I could feel my left shoulder leaning on the wall as I stumbled to a halt.

“What’s going on?” I wondered out loud. I lifted my hands up to push myself away from the wall but I kept my left on it, for stability. All I could see was white fog with a widening tunnel in it. It was nearly as tall as me, now. I could see what looked like the same figure in white sitting on a bench looking down at his feet with his arms resting on his knees. A shimmer in the blur produced some armed and armoured men running past and out of sight. The tunnel wasn’t as long as the last time and for some reason, that made me nervous. Seeing the man stand up and look around before moving away drew me ahead a few steps. I stopped as soon as I noticed the end of the tunnel coming closer as I walked.

I’m guessing that my legs gave out at that last realization, because, when my brain finally stopped tripping over itself, I discovered that I was huddled on the floor with my hands pressed to my eyes. After a short while of me huddled on the floor, I gingerly moved my right hand and peeked out cautiously. I let out a deep sigh of relief when I recognized my familiar hallway and back door.

Everything was so much stronger and more vivid after removing my contacts. Part of me wanted to go put my contacts back in to see if doing so would stop what was happening, but, I was almost certain that it wouldn’t matter. It was more a question of ‘when’ as opposed to ‘if’.


	5. Chapter 5

The day after I got home, the visions were coming so often that I decided to call work and take my vacation time. I had about 3 weeks accrued, and I couldn’t think of a better time to use them. Thankfully, I didn’t have very many clients scheduled and of those, only two were regulars.

As the next couple days passed, I got used to having to suddenly stop, sit down and wait for the foggy tunnel to fade. After noticing that the more I moved, the shorter the tunnel became, I always tried to stop moving. I had plenty of groceries stocked up, so I really didn’t need to leave my home.

Sadly, for all my efforts, simply staying still didn’t stop the end of the tunnel from getting closer as the days passed. I’m resigned to the fact that ‘something’ was going to happen so I packed my trusty black backpack with some essentials, a few hours ago. A toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, a hair brush, a big bottle of body wash, a big thick towel and my small first aid kit went into the backpack along with a change of clothes and a warmer coat. I was already wearing my favourite white baggy pants, sleeveless hoodie and Nike’s.

I’m walking around my home looking at pictures of my parents and brothers when the world tilts and everything goes blurry, again. My best guess was that once the tunnel was completely gone, I would be in another place and, quite possibly, time. My worst guess? I would wake up in a white padded room wearing a coat with really long sleeves. Charming, I know.

I felt for my backpack next to me, picked it up and slung it on my back. The tunnel’s end was only a couple feet ahead. Some would say that ‘fate’ was something everybody encountered. I never was sure if I agreed with them, but, I did know that whatever was pushing me through this tunnel was awfully persistent. I’m not above admitting that I was terrified and that my hands shook. So I took a deep breath and walked the remaining two steps to cross the end of the tunnel. If I had no choice, why not meet it head on? I wasn’t expecting everything to go blindingly white before fading to black.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Italian spoken in the following chapters were either taken from the book, itself, or gotten with Google Translate.

I always found it strange when I didn’t dream while sleeping. My friend, Sarah, would always call me weird for having and remembering my dreams.

Black. Blacker. Blackest. It’s all I see. I feel like I’m floating in darkness. I can’t feel my arms or legs, but, I’m strangely calm.

Smell. I smell grass and something else. What is it? It smells like too many unwashed people but stronger.

Something’s tickling my nose and left arm. My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. I’m lying on my left side with my knees bent in front of me. While flexing my limbs out for a stretch, I noticed that I couldn’t feel my right hand. It probably went numb, again.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as I crack my eyes open only to close them tight with a pained grunt. My left hand drifts up to rub my eyes. Moving my right hand only confirmed my suspicion.

“Ow.” I mutter unhappily, in English. “Stupid, evil death orb.” I hear the faint creak of new leather near my head.

“Cosa?” A male Italian voice blurts out. More fabric shifts and my face is in the shade.

“Huh? Oh.” My long unused Italian surfaced and I tried again. “Mi dispiace. That hurt more than I care to admit.” I crack my eyes open, again, to see him sitting between the late afternoon sun and I. My eyes blink open as I massage the numbness from my right hand.

“Are you well?” He smiles while he studies my face. “I noticed you lying over in the grass with your bag next to you. I thought you would be more comfortable in the shade.”

“Where am I?” Since I wasn’t quite awake yet, I chose to ignore his question in favour of one or two of my own. Once the numbness in my hand subsided, I pushed myself up to sit cross legged, facing the rugged looking man. “Who are you?” His bearded face and short dark hair gave him a gruff appearance. He, too, sat with his legs crossed in a green shirt with gold stripes. There was brown leather covering much of his chest and gloves on his hands. His dark eyes studied my face as he contemplated his response.

“My name is Bartolomeo D’Alviano. Who might you be?” His smile was inviting. “You are near the west end of Antico district in Roma, Bella.”

I take a quick look around to see sparse trees, long and short green grass and old buildings that dotted the rolling hills. The grass and trees were very green. So green that it didn’t quite seem real, as if this were some sort of very elaborate hallucination. I turned back to regard Bartolomeo.

“I’m Daniela. Daniela Savonorola.” I’m smile politely. “Wait. Did you say Roma?” I can feel the blood drain from my face. “This is going to sound weird, but, what year is it?” My voice sounded weak to my ears.

“It is 1501 in May.” He responds with a touch of confusion. “Are you not well? You are very pale.” His right hand reached out and I feel its comforting weight on my shoulder.

“Not really, no, thank you.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I’ll be ok. I would love to have a bed to rest in, though.” Again, I hear the faint creak of new leather, so, I open my eyes to see him with his left hand extended towards me.

“Come. Pantasilea will love to meet you. We have a spare room in our home.”

My grateful smile is all the response he needed. I can only hope that I wasn’t making a mistake.


	7. Chapter 7

When I told myself that I’d be a new person this year, I wasn’t expecting this.

It’s been five days since Bartolomeo found me and invited me into his home with him and his wife, Pantasilea. She’s still trying to get me into a dress, but, I’m holding firm, for now. Pantasilea is very persistent, though.

Yea, Bartolomeo’s home; it wasn’t exactly what I had imagined. He called it the Caserma di Alviano. He had said that there were many people living there but he’d forgotten to mention that it was a barracks where he trained men to fight for him. Save for the older architecture, it looked like a series of block apartment buildings stuck together. We entered by the south gate and I got my first view of two men sparring with real swords.

Meeting Pantasilea was a real surprise. She’s a beautiful woman who’s deeply in love with Bartolomeo. She has straight brown hair and blue eyes that give her an aristocratic appearance that the freckle on her right cheek only enhances. I didn’t understand how they could connect so well, for the first few days, until I saw them working together on plans for the guard rotations. I overheard them planning something in the study, late one night. All I could hear was Bartolomeo getting agitated and Pantasilea gently calming him down before taking over with the skill of a natural leader. It sounded like there were a few others there, but, I didn’t stick around to listen. Mom always told me it was rude to eavesdrop on another’s business.

The next day, nobody mentioned what the meeting had been about. Sure, I was curious, but I wasn’t about to go around asking. I was still trying to make sense of how I got sent through time; forget asking questions about secret meetings, for now. I did see one guy in white and red robes with a hood walking out the gates with Bartolomeo. He looked well armed and dangerous with the sword and armor that I saw. I simply continued on my way exploring.

There was a moment of happiness, though. One day I was out exploring the training areas when I came across a small ball of yellow and white fur. I knelt down to pick it up and saw the sweetest pair of yellow and green eyes on the tiny male kitten. Poor thing looked hungry, so I brought him ‘home’. Pantasilea didn’t object so I knew that Bartolomeo wouldn’t, either. Now all I needed was a name for him.

A knocking on my door jolted me out of my memories of the last few days. Little Katsu bumped my still hand, demanding that I continue petting him, to which I felt obliged.

“Come in!” I called out. I’m stretched out on my right side in bed having a lazy day. I relaxed most of the day away in my white pants, sleeveless hoodie and Nike’s. Little Katsu was purring contentedly.

Pantasilea opened the door and took a step in with a smile. Today, she wore an elegant green and brown dress with blue accents. Her hair was left unadorned save for a couple rings of gold chain that went around her head like a crown. Her neck was graced with the same style of gold chain.

“I haven’t seen you much, today. Are you well?” She inquired politely. “Supper will be soon.”

“I am, thanks. I just didn’t feel like going out.” A grateful smile curved my lips. Deciding that I’d had enough of my room, I lifted and swung my legs off the side of my bed and stood up. “Did you need a hand with supper?” I first grabbed and donned my warm cloak, then I picked up Katsu to set him on my shoulder. Late April is still a bit chilly.

“Bene.” She held her right hand out towards me. “Let’s go see what we can prepare.” I linked my left arm with hers and we headed for the kitchen. I had plenty of time to try to make sense of the mess that had become my life.


	8. Chapter 8

“Please, Bartolomeo?” I pleaded. We’re standing in his study at one of the infrequent times that he’s home during the day. Most often, he’s away in Roma with a number of his mercenaries.

“I would rather not, Daniela.” He replied resolutely while closing the door. Two of the walls are lined, floor to ceiling, with shelves stuffed with books of all sizes. The third wall holds a variety of weapons around a stone fireplace. His beloved Bianca has the place of honour, on the fireplace’s mantle. Who is Bianca, you ask? Bianca is a two-handed long sword with leather wrapped hilt and a concave cross piece. He cherishes and uses Bianca with deadly efficiency. Believe me, I watch him train.

“But all I want is to be able to do is defend myself.” I retorted stubbornly. “I can’t do simple errands without some soldier thinking that I’m available for hire.”

“I will send an escort with you, if you do not feel safe in Roma.” Came his quick counter. He motioned me to take a seat while he settled in his chair behind his desk. “It would be easier for you to blend in if you wore a dress, though. They are suspicious of you in your white pants and sleeveless shirt.”

I slump down into the wooden chair closest to me. “Where I come from, women wear pants much more often than dresses. Also, I’m not like other girls. Instead of drinking tea and reading novels, I wear pants and captain the soccer team.” My reply is lightly laced with irritation as my bare arms cross over my chest.”Please don’t try to re-direct the conversation. I want to learn how to defend myself. In the 3 weeks that I’ve been here, I’ve been propositioned 5 times.”

“I do not train women.” He stubbornly retorted. A firm knock sounded on the door making him turn from me to look at the door. “Come in.” Pantasilea calmly opened the door to see us. A playful grin bloomed on her face as she took in my stubborn posture and Bartolomeo’s frustrated expression. This isn’t the first time that she’s walked in on us butting heads; or the second, if memory serves.

“The group you wanted to meet with is here. They’re at the fighting ring waiting for you, Bartolomeo. Daniela, would you come to the market with me? There are some things I must retrieve.” She calmly spoke to us.

“Sure.” I replied. “Just let me grab my cloak and sneakers.” I quickly stand and retrieve my things from my room before meeting Pantasilea by the front door.

“Come. A few of the boys will be coming with us so we will gather them and then head out in the carriage.” She links her left arm with me as we leave the house. By ‘boys’ she meant Bartolomeo’s mercenaries. Speaking with a few of the mercenaries didn’t take long: Adolfo, Rocco, and Lucca went for horses.

By the time we got into the carriage by the western gate, the boys were ready and waiting. The carriage lurched into motion once we were settled.

Roma, here we come.


	9. Chapter 9

June is my favourite month. Today is the 7th and the sun is warming my freshly tanned arms. I love walking around the market, especially in my white pants and sleeveless hoodie.

The wind playfully dances across my face when I hear an irate man yelling above the common chatter of the marketplace. Humming a tune from Great Big Sea, I carefully look over the farmer’s selection of vegetables. Sadly, there isn’t much for selection; dried corn, small potatoes, turnip and a wide selection of herbs. What I wouldn’t give for an avocado or two.

With my bag sitting on the produce cart, I’m haggling with the vendor when a painful grip attaches itself to my right arm. “Ow! Excuse you! Do you mind?” I turn and snap at the person accosting me. His red and black militia uniform tells me that he isn’t one to be trifled with. His bearded face and shaggy brown hair are unkempt and badly in need of a wash.

“Assassino!” He yells in my face before he proceeds to drag me away. “You’re coming with me.” My bag lies forgotten on the vendor’s cart.

“What?” Stunned, he easily pulls me along until my brain catches up. “No. I’m no assassin. What are you talking about? I’ve never hurt anybody, before!” I shout in reply. The painful grip on my arm doesn’t stop me from continuing to try to get away. “Let me go, Jerk!”

“Listen, Assassino Putana, you’re coming with me. Stop resisting or I’ll find a quiet alley and make you.” He comes to a stop, turns and gives me a lewd, hungry look. A tingle skittered down my spine at the implication.

“Go ahead and try, Ass. You don’t scare me.” I snarl viciously. My vision explodes with stars and everything wavers. I didn’t even see the right hook he delivered to the side of my face; so much for my martial arts training. I stagger sideways and can feel his arm circle my chest while still gripping my right arm. The feeling of being caught in his dubious embrace makes by stomach give an unhappy flop. Tears dripped off the tip of my chin and nose.

He shuffles us off into an alley while I try to regain my scrambled marbles. I feel him roughly grab shoulders and shove me against a wooden wall a short ways in. More stars sparkle in my vision to accompany the burst of pain on the back of my head. Wooden walls are not soft.

“The Borgia won’t care if you’re injured, when I bring you in,” He grins maliciously, his face mere inches from mine. “only that you live.” I feel his left hand slide from my shoulder up to my throat and take a firm grip. My breath wheezes in my throat while he forces me to look at him. “Now which is it going to be, Assassino, the hard way?” The grip on my neck squeezes harder and spots begin to flit across my vision. My brain is screaming for me to fight back, but I can’t make myself move: my muscles frozen with shock. “Or would you prefer the easy way?” I hungrily gulp in air when he relocates that hand to my left breast and gives a painfully unwanted squeeze. My eyes pop open more as my panic level rises. “Your eyes have gold flecks in them. Borgia will love seeing them show fear like they are right now. Will you scream for him?”

“Do you not know that that is no way to treat a lady?” I dimly hear a smooth male Italian voice call out from deeper in the alley. I turn my head to look in the voice’s direction and see an outfit that I recognize. It was the same white and red ensemble that I’d seen leaving the Caserma 2 weeks ago. My brain helpfully points out all the shiny weapons that are attached to him. His deep hood prevents me from seeing his whole face; only his mouth, chin and nose are visible. His goatee is thick but for an old scar cutting through the right side of his moustache and lips.

“You’d best not get involved. This one’s mine, go get your own putana.” The guard growled at the man. When my captor leaned away to turn and face the advancing threat, I take the opportunity to flatten his family jewels with my knee. His painful grip on my body abruptly loosens and vanishes as he drops like a stone to cup his injured manhood. I quickly scooted down the alley toward the guy who spoke.

“And now I’m glad I took that self defence class.” I mutter to myself. “You have no idea how glad I am that you showed up, Messere.” My voice rings with sincerity while my body shakes with fear and adrenalin. My right arm comes up to circle my ribs under my bust while my left hand comes up to rub my throat. I hope it doesn’t bruise too much. My eyes flick back and forth between the militia who assaulted me and the unknown man who interrupted.

“Stand back here while I will see that he does not bother you again, Bella.” He spoke firmly. I see him walk past me and continue his advance on the lone recovering militia. His stalk reminds me of an eagle as it circles wounded prey.


	10. Chapter 10

Another lone guard looked in the alley just as my rescuer ‘took care of’ my attacker. I’m glad that I’m not squeamish at the sight of blood. Now we’re on the run and looking for a place to hide. My rescuer is a couple paces ahead of me and from the looks of him; he’s doing his best to not outpace me.

Gasping in lungfuls of breath, we pelt around another corner. I’ve never been happier that I trained to run marathons. My legs burned with exertion, but, I can’t to stop: Left turn, right turn, and dodge some people. The wild ringing of tossed coins creates mob-like crowds behind us.

I nearly trip when my rescuer abruptly slows down to grab my arm with his left hand. “Hey!” I squeak while wiggling my right arm. “What are you doing?” Dismayed, I hope he isn’t changing his mind about helping me get to a safe place.

“Sshh. You need to hide for a little while so I can take care of the guards following us.” He guides me towards a large cart of hay. “Climb in here. You’ll be safe.” I eye him sceptically while he helps me climb into said cart of hay. “Stay here and be quiet. I’ll come get you when the guards are gone. I promise.”

I burrow deep into the pile and cup my hands around my face to make room to breathe without eating hay. The prickling from the hay is a discomfort that I could gladly go without. Unfortunately, I’m stuck here for a little while, at least. The heat from being under so much hay is stifling; I’m sweating after just a few minutes.

Not long after I settled into the hay, the sounds of many booted feet go clomping by the cart that I’m hiding in. “Where are they? Have you seen them?”My breath stills in my throat. “Don’t lie to me! Where did the man and woman, dressed in white, go?” Regular peasants don’t like the Guards. They’re bullies that need to be taught a lesson.

Wiping sweat from my face, I resolve to get someone, anyone, to teach me how to fight. Something has to be done for the people of Roma. I know that I’m tired of being pushed around and I’m willing to bet that the rest of Roma is, as well.

“Madonna, you can come out now, I am back.” My rescuer is finally back. An eager grin split my face at the sound of his voice. “The guards are gone, for now. Come. I know where we can go.” I climb out of the hay mound and confront him.

“Who are you?”

“I am Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Bella.” He announces with a sweeping bow. “Who might you be, caro mio?”

If Bartolomeo won’t teach me how to fight, maybe Ezio will. Doesn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Daniela Savonorola. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ezio.”


	11. Chapter 11

“You say you understand, but, do you? Do you really?” I question him. “Where I come from, men and women are equals. Dresses are seldom worn by women.”

“That sounds like a very strange place. Where do you come from?” Bartolomeo sits in his chair in his office watching me pace back and forth in front of the desk. I run my hands through my short dark chocolate hair.

Stalk. Stalk. Stalk. Spin.

“Where I’m from isn’t important. What’s important is how those poor people are being treated.” My arms flail out and up, briefly, while my feet continue to pace the office’s wood floor. “There has to be something that we can do; something that **I** can do.” My bottom lip smarts from how hard I’m chewing it. “I feel so lost, here.”

Stalk. Stalk. Stalk. Spin.

“It is not that I do not want to train you, Daniela, because I do. It’s more that once I train you, if you gain notoriety, the Guards will not leave you alone. You will forever have to hide from them.” Patient eyes follow my stressed movements. “I do not want you to have to go through that.”

Stalk. Stalk. Stalk. Spin.

“You are going to wear out my floor one of these days, Daniela.”

Stalk. Stalk. Stalk. Spin. A brief withering glance shoots out towards him from my gold flecked brown eyes. It’s been 2 weeks since last I used my contacts.

“I need new floors, anyways.” He states with a sigh.

Stalk. Stalk. Stalk. Stop. My arms come up to circle my mid-section and my shoulders hunch up. My tortured bottom lip pops out from between my teeth. A few deep breaths later and my thoughts are given voice.

“It’s been a week since that man attacked me and every time I close my eyes, I can see it, feel it. I can’t help but wonder how many other women weren’t as lucky as me. Roma’s a big city and I don’t even want to think about how many women didn’t get away. Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands, even? I want to do something for the people of Roma. There must be someone who can teach me, if you still refuse. What about that guy in white? Ezio Auditore.” Turning from the bookcase where I stopped, I face Bartolomeo once more. “The Militia who chased us called him an Assassin. If he goes around helping the people of Roma, like he did me, he can’t possibly be a bad person. Maybe ‘Assassin’ is a title, maybe it isn’t. I’d wager that by how you’re holding yourself, there’s more to it than that. I aim to find out what.” Dark eyes locked with gold flecked brown, neither giving ground.

“Am I interrupting something?” Instinctively, I turn to regard Ezio. He has a smirk plastered on what I could see of his face, which is still just the lower half.

“No,” I sigh deeply. “I suppose not. We were just finishing up.” My eyes find Bartolomeo’s, again. “You two look like you need some privacy. Thank you for your time, Bartolomeo.” I nod respectfully to him and make my way out of his office.

“Think nothing of it, Daniela; I am always available to you when I am not busy.” The sincerity of his words makes me smile, as always.

“You know,” Not stopping, I call back over my shoulder, “Bernardo said he was taking the day off. Maybe he’ll show me some moves?” Why not respond to his stubbornness with a little sass? We’re both equally stubborn, so, it’s just a question of who cracks first, right? The Assassin’s laughter tells me that I, both, scored and win that round.


	12. Chapter 12

“Uugh.” A weak moan drifted out from between my lips. A loud knocking rattled my door.

“Daniela? Are you awake?” Ah yes. Bernardo was here to wake me for training, at my request. Not one of my better ideas. A week and a day of waking up sore from his strict instruction isn’t making me want to get up, today. “It’s past dawn. Are you well?” Impatient feet shuffle on the other side of the door.

My room is tastefully comfortable. It’s decorated in pale greens and white. The floor is covered in Italian rugs of cool colours. The wall across from the window has a large portrait of an old woman dressed in an emerald coloured gown holding a bouquet of white lilies. My bed isn’t large, but, it’s certainly not small. Its wooden headboard has a wide shelf for personal items. Currently, it holds a few knickknacks that Pantasilea gave to me. There’s a small desk with two wooden chairs next to it by the end of my bed.

“Yea yea, I hear you, Bernardo.” I call out to him. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.” I roll myself out of bed and grope for my clothes. I shuck the long blue tank top for my white pants and hoodie vest. Stepping into and lacing my Nike Free’s reminds me that I’m in need of clean socks. One final stretch and I head for the door. “Impatient much, Bernardo?” I sass at him, opening the door. A small grimace stretches across my lips as I roll my shoulders to try to relieve some of the stiffness.

“Buon giorno, only to see your beauty, Daniela.” He dipped down into a respectful bow. When he was standing straight again he lost his habitual smile. “I had thought to let you rest after the day we had, yesterday, but Bartolomeo requested to see you. We can work on your target practice after lunch, if you want.”

“Oh. Thank you. Yea, I don’t have very good aim with thrown daggers, do I?” I laugh lightly. “I suppose I should go see what Bartolomeo wants. I’ll see you after lunch. Arrivederci, Bernardo.” I left to go find Bartolomeo. If I had to guess, I’d say that he is in his office. A few minutes later and I’m knocking on his office door.

“Come in, Daniela.” He calls through the door.

“Buon giorno, Bartolomeo.” I greet him as I open the door and step in. Ezio is there, too, standing next to Bartolomeo’s seated form; his arms crossed over his chest. “Ciao, Ezio.” I nod my head at Ezio. “Is something wrong, Bartolomeo?” My eyes turn back to meet Bartolomeo’s dark gaze. This is a first, for me, to meet Bartolomeo in his office and find Ezio there, too.

“Ciao, Daniela, please take a seat.” I warily sit in the chair closer to the door and he gives me a strained smile. “Perhaps, I am not sure. You have been in my home for over a month, now, and there is much that I do not know about you.” His arms come up to rest on his desk and his hands clasp. Both he and Ezio look like they’re ready for either a good argument or a fight. “I do not doubt that you are from Italia, but your accent is different.” He arches an eyebrow at my suddenly tense posture.

“We do not wish to scare you away, Daniela. We only wish to know how far you are willing to go with your training.” My eyes tear themselves from Bartolomeo’s sturdy gaze to look, in surprise, at Pantasilea closing the door to the office. With my body twisted around towards Pantasilea, I can feel the heavy gazes of Ezio and Bartolomeo at my back. A hot trickle of sweat streams down past my left ear and down my neck.

“Why do you want to know?” I ask warily. “I want to help the people of Roma. Those guards are abusing Roma’s citizens for no reason other than to stoke their own egos.” My back and neck untwists so I’m looking at Ezio. His lips curve up into a half smirk. “Assassin isn’t just a label the guards gave you, is it, Ezio. It’s a title. One you carry with honour and something you do well at.” My hands fold neatly on my lap while I shift my eyes back to Bartolomeo.

“The liberation of Roma has begun, Daniela.” Ezio declares firmly. I keep my eyes locked with Bartolomo.

“This is not a decision to be made lightly.” My back relaxes at Bartolomeo’s words and I can feel the hard wood of the chair’s back. “But, before you decide, we must know if we can trust you.”

My lungs fill with a deep breath and my eyes close. Is this what I want? To be what Ezio is? I clench my folded hands together and let out the breath I held in. I don’t feel haunted by the attack on my person and I truly do want to help. My head bows until my chin rests on my chest. There’s more to life than black and white, I suppose. I open my eyes, look up at Ezio and speak.

“It’s a bit complicated. What would you like to know first?” My voice is calm while I gaze at each of them, in turn. Pantasilea is sitting in the chair next to me; back straight and perfect poise. Bartolomeo relaxes a trifle and sits back in his chair. Ezio takes a seat on the corner of Bartolomeo’s desk. I wipe a trickle of sweat from the back of my neck.

How in the hell am I going to explain the internet?


	13. Chapter 13

There’s a full moon out, tonight. Sitting on the edge of the roof of the Asssassin’s base of operations is a little chilly, but, it’s the only place to be alone in the late Italian evening. The wind blows straight down the Tiber River with nothing to slow it other than Tiber Island. Isola Tiberina: home of the Assassins of Roma. The main building is five floors with multiple rooms that are slowly filling with more and more assassin recruits.

My mind wanders to my brothers: Arturo, Fillipo and Lucca. Knowing my luck, they don’t even know that I’m missing. I’ve been here a month and a half, so far, and I haven’t found any way to get home. Not that I’ve been looking very hard. Renaissance Italy, quite frankly, doesn’t have the tech.

Sarah once mentioned a game that’s based in Italy. I think she said something about a glowing apple. But that can’t be right. Apples don’t glow.

“Florin for your thoughts?” I jumped half out of my skin and gave a little squeak. Ezio’s laughter echoes over the rooftops. Recalling the memory of what Sarah told me will have it wait, it would seem. The muscles in my back protest the small movement of turning to look at him.

“Would you just....” Opting not to tell the smarmy Auditore off, I settle for glaring hot enough to blister. “Must you do that?” Pulling my dangling legs up; I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my chin on my knees. Sore leg muscles reaffirm their presence. My Nike-clad feet have just enough room to rest on the edge of the roof.

Ezio sits down next to me, still chuckling a little. “You are adjusting well?” His smooth voice deftly deflects my irritation. His gaze searches the stars while his legs dangle over the edge.

“A little, I guess. It’s a lot to take in all at once.” My right hand unconsciously clenches around the forming blisters. I turn to look at him to find that he lowered his hood. For a man in his early 40’s, he still looks handsome. His dark eyes have small wrinkles around them, no doubt do to stress. Parted in the middle, his dark hair is pulled back into a tail and tied it with a red strip of fabric. He’s leaning back on his hands with his arms straight. His beard is growing in a bit more than usual: I can almost not make out his habitual goatee. Posture relaxed, he exudes careless relaxation: a state you only rarely see him take. Dark eyes turn to lock with my brown/gold.

“It is.” He agrees with a calm smile. “For those who start on this path, there is no turning back. You ask if I must do what I did. The answer is that I must continually test all of the recruits, because, if they do not excel, then they will die.” I don’t need to look hard to see the uncompromising resolve written all over his face. He continued, “That is why you are pushed hard. That is why all of the recruits are pushed hard. I know that some will die, but, I do not wish to lose any of you.” Suddenly, he gathers himself and stands then offers his hand. “Come. We both have early mornings, tomorrow.”

Craning my neck, I look up at his, now hooded, face. “I think I’ll sit out here for a little while more. I’m still having trouble adjusting to this time period.” A small smile stretches my lips in thanks.

“You can’t just sit out here all night, Daniela.” He patiently tries to convince me to come inside.

“I’ve done it before. Never underestimate my ability to idle.” I flash him a playful wink and turn my head back towards the full moon. “I’m a big girl, Ezio.” He’s quiet for several minutes before he speaks again.

“Buonanotte, Daniela.”

“Good night, Ezio. Thank you, for everything.”

“Prego.” His reply softly touched my ears. Receding footsteps and a closing door tell me that he’s left. He’s secretly come back, before, to scare more of my frazzled whits from me, so, I briefly check to see that he is actually gone.

Memory surfaces of seeing a man clad in white with blades on his wrists on one of Sarah’s brother’s PS3 games. I spent some time admiring him navigate Venice in the game. What was it called? My brain clicks together all the tiny clues. Suddenly, I’m very glad he’s gone, because I’m having a hard time drawing breaths. Shocked, I mutter faintly to myself. “Oh. Well. That would explain a few things.” My arms come up from my legs to cover my face and head in a futile attempt to hide from the world.

There’s no way I’m sleeping this night. Probably best if I never mention this little revelation.


	14. Chapter 14

Fires dance and feet fly.

Violins sing and lutes whistle.

Heart pounding with a small hand drum, my feet dance across a dirt dance floor.

My bare arms look golden with the flickering fires around the courtyard.

My partner’s hands guide me from one step to the next. Strong, callused and warm; his hands lead me into a low dip. Joyous laughter bubbles up out of my mouth when he pulls me back up and ushers me on to the next sequence. My billowy white pants swell out as I move about.

A surprise spin nearly ends in a collision with another dancing couple. “Woah!” I laugh. “Careful, Bernardo.” The fire light glints off of the brace of throwing daggers set on the heavy belt around my waist. I opted to leave my other weapons, with the rest of my uniform, in my old room in Bartolomeo’s home.

“Mi dispace, Daniela.” He grins impishly at me as he swings me around the dance floor, again.

“It’s ok.” I flash him a wink. “I think I’d like to go sit down, though. I’m tired.”

“Certo.” Bernardo whirled me around one more time before leading me away from the throng of energetic dancers. “And here are some benches. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Grazie, I would love some wine, please, Bernardo. Red if you can find some, please.” I plunk myself down onto the nearest bench. Some things in this time need tweaking: seat padding would be really nice. I watch his back until the crowd hides him.

Inhaling, I relish in the crisp night air. Roast meats from the cooking fires fill the area with the rich smell of searing meat. A nice breeze makes the fires dance and crackle. I notice Pantasilea appear from the crowd and make her way over to me.

“Ciao, Daniela. It’s been nearly two weeks since you left. I trust you are doing well with your training?” I watch her settle gracefully on the bench next to me. Her voice is pitched loud enough to be heard above the revelers.

“Hello, Pantasilea. I’m doing well, thank you.” I smile warmly. “How have you been? I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to visit you before now.”

“Here is your wine, Daniela. You are in luck. Bartolomeo had a bottle set aside just for you.” Bernardo returned with my drink. He’s such a sweetie. I hate the thought of breaking his heart, but I have to at some point.

“Thank you, Bernardo.” I smile gratefully at him as I take the offered cup and sample my drink. My eyes shutter briefly as I relish in the dry, but fruity, red ambrosia.

“Prego, Daniela.” He nods his head with a wide smile. “Ciao, Pantasilea, can I get you a drink?”

“No thank you, Bernardo.” She smiled serenely. “I am doing well, Daniela. Your presence is missed, but, we understand the importance of your absence.”

“Mi dispace. I miss the lazy days here.” I sigh. “I’m sore every day, but, the training is making me better.” My attention is drawn from them to a brawl that started up near the roasted pig. A tired sigh escapes my lips; my eyes closely watching the brawl. “Ezio says that we only take the lives of those who threaten to take away the freedom from the people. I can’t say that I’m overly excited about it, but, it’s part of what I’m learning to do.” I stop when I feel a slender hand on my back. My head turns to regard Pantasilea.

“What you are training to do is not for the faint of heart, Daniela. What you do is for the betterment of the whole world.” She meets my eyes with a warm smile.

“I know.” I reply quietly. “That’s why I have to keep going.” I look up at Bernardo when his left hand pats my right shoulder. My eyes drop down to the wine in my cup. A sip fortifies my resolve. I reach out to take Pantasilea’s right hand in my left. “Come on. Enough gloom. Lets go dance.”


	15. Chapter 15

“Daniela. You are needed. It is time to wake.” A female voice intrudes on my dreams.

My eyes pop open and my right wrist twitches up. I’m glad I don’t wear my hidden blade to bed: too many sliced blankets. My left hand lazily comes up to rub my eyes a couple times. Sprawled out on my bed at Bartolomeo’s, I see a tall figure in white standing by the foot of my bed.

“What time is it?” I groggily inquire. Pushing myself up to sit, the figure reaches up to push back her hood. “Ciao, Tiziana, why are you here so early?” I recognize my friend amongst the Order.

“The moon is close to setting. We are being called in. Ezio asks that we meet at Isola Tiberina as soon as we can be gathered.” She smiles kindly. “I hope you slept enough. Ezio does not go easy on his recruits.”

“Ok, grazie. I’ll be there.” Scrubbing my face with my hands, I squirm over to the edge of my bed and begin to don my assassin’s garb. Tiziana quietly climbs out the window without a word of parting. I pay no mind to her quiet departure and shrug on my robes. After strapping my various weapons on, I tidy the room and make my way out of Bartolomeo and Pantasilea’s home. My hidden blade is on its customary place on my left arm.

The sleepy stable hand helps me get a mare saddled. With a nod of my head to him, I’m off. The horse’s hooves flash after I urge her into a full gallop heading south in Campagna District. It’s so dark that I’m having a hard time seeing the larger rocks in the road.

Passing through the wall into Antico District, I pass a pair of late night lovers on the side of the road. Deep in the throes of passion, they fail to notice as my horse and I gallop past them.

The mare’s flanks are heaving when I finally arrive at one of the many gates of Roma. Dismounting, I pat her on the neck and make sure my hood is properly up on my head. Another sleepy stable hand takes her reigns and leads her into a stall. “Have her brought to the Caserma di Alviano in the morning, please.” A couple florins passed over reinforce my request.

“Si, Madonna.” He flashes a smile in thanks.

I nod at him and turn to make my way into Roma.

Sticking to the shadows, I pass by several guards lazily walking their patrols. The streets are devoid of regular citizens. A few minutes of stalking shadows and the bridge to Tiber Island stretches out before me. Quick but quiet steps carry me over the cobblestone bridge and to a secret door leading into the Assassin’s hideout.

Upon entering the hideout, I push my hood back onto my shoulders. As I make my way up to Ezio’s office, greetings are exchanged with several other recruits. The worn steps creak slightly under my feet.

“Tisk tisk, Daniela.” Tiziana smarmily voices. “It has been 4 weeks, you should be better than that.”

I turn to blow a raspberry in her direction. “I can be plenty silent when I have the need, Tiziana.”

“Let us hope so, Daniela.” She motions for me to join her and continue up the stairs. “Something tells me that all of your new skills will be tested, this night.” Reaching the landing, she leads me to a nondescript door on the left.

“I’ll do my best.” I retort with confidence.

“Bene. Now that you are here, we can begin.” Ezio opens the door in front of us and ushers us in. It always feels like I’m under a microscope when he turns his dark gaze on me. The walls of his office are covered with either book shelves or maps nailed up. In lieu of a smaller, one-person, desk, he has a big table in the middle of the room. It’s littered with various maps and written pages being held down with a multitude of paperweights. The floor is plain, worn wood.

“Our next step against the Borgia is to take down their towers. It will not be easy, but, a Master will be there with you. I am confident in your success.” He shifted his gaze around the room, only pausing for a scant few seconds on each person. There are eight assassins clustered around the table. Ezio points out two towers in Antico District. “You will split up and take out these two towers. Prospero da Siena and Tommaso di Viterbo are your targets. Come back here once you are finished.” Ezio looked around at each of the assassins in the room, again. “Safety and peace, brothers and sisters.”


	16. Chapter 16

Throbbing hot pain explodes from my left shoulder. My piercing scream sunders the peace of dawn. I hit the ground in a heap as my knees give out. My body slowly curls up on my right side with my left arm feeling like it’s going to fall off. My right hand twitches as it gingerly grasps the crossbow bolt sticking out of my left shoulder. Pained whimpers leak out of my mouth. My target stopped running away at my agonized shout and leisurely strolled back to my prone form.

“There, now. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” I gruff male voice growls above me. I clamp my mouth shut and glare up at him. “This weak little assassino poses no threat to us, now.” To emphasize his point, he drives his mailed foot into my stomach. I’m left coughing weakly and clutching my stomach as best I can with my left arm. A large hand roughly grabs the front of my robes and hauls me up to stand. “What do you say, puttana? Would you like to die quickly or slowly?”

“Requiescat in pace, bastardo.” I viciously reply with quiet thanks for his stupidity while I press my left palm to his chest. My hidden blade shoots out and deflates his short but pompous speech. Gritting my teeth against the throbbing pain, I watch his eyes go wide and cough in disbelief. The grip he has on my robe goes slack and I take a couple steps away from him. My breath still laboured, I quickly draw my sword in my right hand and do a quick count of enemies. “Does anybody else want to try their luck?” I inquire venomously of the half dozen guards still standing there shocked. Standing straight hurts a lot, but, I force my chin up and back straight. My left arm is firmly tucked in close to my body.

Their Captain, Tommaso di Viterbo, writhes weakly on the ground with a fast growing pool of blood around him. His weak coughs paint his trembling lips red.

“Die assassin!” One muscled legionnaire charges me like a bull in a china shop; whipping his sword all over the place. I drop into fighting stance and sidestep to the left using my sword to deflect his. Trying to ignore the pain in my left shoulder, I dodge more of his wild swings. Quick peeks between the clashes of our swords shows the rest of my group making short work of the remainder of Tommaso’s entourage. I’m profoundly glad to see them finishing off the rabble. A flicker of sun reflecting off a swinging blade brings me back to my opponent. “Now I have you!” He crows in delight when I barely manage to deflect his strike.

“You should pay more attention. Your friends are dead.” I grunt at the strength of his last strike. He stops and whips his head around to regard the bloody corpses of his friends around us. Taking his moment of distraction, my hidden blade, again, bathes in the blood of a templar. He gargles wetly around the blade stuck through his throat. “Requiescat in pace.” I retract the blade and step shakily away from his twitching corpse.

The arrow in my shoulder makes its presence known, again, and I bite back a gasp. Matteo’s quiet baritone breaks through the haze of pain clouding my mind.

“Back to Isola Tiberina. I will assist Daniela. Safety and peace.” The others departed at once, heading for the stables. “Come, Daniela. Let’s get you to the hideout. Ezio has a dottore on call. Give me your good arm and we will be off.” Cradling my left arm and shoulder, I nod at Matteo and try very hard to not think about the blood covering my left hand and sleeve.


	17. Chapter 17

The night air is crisp, tonight, up on the roof. Sitting with my back to a wall, my head is resting on said wall and my eyes are closed. A playful breeze flits across my skin and tosses my hair. My dark wavy hair is longer than I usually let it grow out. Foregoing my robes, I’m relaxing in my white pants and sleeveless hoodie from home. My Nikes rest carelessly on the roof to my right.

The peace and quiet of the rooftop isn’t helping me overcome the turmoil created from killing those two men. Twitching involuntarily, my shoulder shoots a tendril of pain across my chest. Being from the future, it’s not considered acceptable to plot and kill someone then run away.

Unfortunately, I’m not in the 21st century, right now. I’m in the 16th century, and such actions are performed on an hourly basis. Though law tries to impose its rules, much of the land is governed by ‘kill or be killed’. Criminalists would have an apoplexy in this era.

Hearing the door open, I keep my pose in the hopes that he or she leaves me in peace. Some minutes pass and the only sound I hear is the door closing; neither footsteps nor movement betray where he (Tiziana is not that quiet) went. I make a guess and address the interloper.

“May I help you, Messere Auditore?” Still, I stay where I am; head back and eyes closed. His rich chuckle confirms my guess.

“You did well, yesterday.” A compliment from the powerful Assassin, I would feel honoured if I didn’t feel so guilty. Instead I respond by opening my eyes and turn my head to look at him. He’s seated next to me in much the same position but he’s watching the stars, his hood pulled back. He turns to regard my solemn gaze. “How is your shoulder?” He inquires quietly.

“Sore.” I smile bitterly. My right hand comes up to gingerly touch the bandages under my hoodie. “Makes me wish I had thought to pack stronger painkillers.”

“What are ‘painkillers’?”

“Medicine much like the poultices and teas that dottore’s make, here, but they work a lot better and faster.” I speak absently before turning back to watch the stars. “I did what I had to do, yesterday. I wasn’t even supposed to be the one to make the kill, but, the ledge I was crossing broke and I was much closer than the others. It’s hard to dodge arrows when you’re falling from twenty feet up. Lucky I didn’t break a leg.” I laugh mirthlessly and fall silent.

We’re quiet for several minutes.

“My first kill was messy. He condemned most of my family to death. Doing what we do is never easy, but, remembering why we do it helps. You are strong and Machiavelli tells me that you learn fast. I will need you hale, soon, for there is more work to be done. Rest and heal. Safety and peace, Sister.” I turn back to regard him as he stands.

“Safety and peace, Brother.” I smile in thanks. He pulls his hood up, nods and silently re-enters the hideout.

Though his words assuaged a good portion of my unrest, I’m still not completely accepting of my latest activities.


	18. Chapter 18

“Hello?” I call into the empty-seeming house while kicking my toes on the floor to rid them of lingering dust. “Anybody home?” Slightly nervous steps carry me into the foyer.

“I am in the kitchen, Daniela!” Pantasilea calls out from the back of the house. I grin at the sound of my friend and head off into the bowels of her home. She meets me in the hall outside said kitchen. “Salve, Daniela.” She enfolds me in a comforting hug. “It has been a week since you last visited, what do I owe for the pleasure of your visit?” She, somehow, manages not to squeeze my injured shoulder.

“Salve, Pantasilea.” I gladly return her hug with my left arm stuck in its sling. “I am in need of a woman’s company.” I find myself led into the kitchen and seated on a tall stool. I note her eyes looking me over as if she’s trying to see into me. Can she see my jumping nerves? “All those men that I train with, though honorable, are still men. Also, it’s hard to do much of anything with a hole in my shoulder.” Looking around, I notice that nobody else is in the big kitchen.

“I’m glad you have come, then, because I need help with preparing supper.” She retorts with a wink. “You work on these vegetables as best you can and we shall chat.” And at that, she busies herself around the hearth and oven. “So tell me. What troubles you?” She inquires directly. I wiggle a little uncomfortably at her perceptiveness: she doesn’t miss anything.

I push the sling back a little to expose my left hand and attempt to peel some carrots. Grimacing in pain, I manage to peel some of the tubers: left hand holding the vegetable with the right wielding the knife. I pause to rest my arm and hope that the soreness abates, soon. A few more minutes pass before I gain the courage to speak.

“I made my first kill.” Not looking up at her, I study the hidden blade on my left arm. She stops puttering and moves to sit across the table, on another stool, to listen intently. “Coward couldn’t even face me while we chased him.” I close my eyes briefly before looking up to regard Pantasilea solemnly. “I had to fall two stories and get skewered before he would stop to gloat.” I watch her slowly shake her head and I can only assume it was for his cowardice. I bare my teeth slightly, “He told me to beg for a swift death. I responded by spilling his blood and consigning him to a slow death.” I notice my hands shake and quickly put the knife down on the table.

“This life you chose here is a hard one. The only way it will get easier is if you quit and leave Italia or get used to the killing.” Pantasilea speaks quietly but firmly. With her hands folded in her lap, she leans forward slightly. “I have seen many people change after their first kill. I do not wish to see that happen to you, Daniela, but, I respect and admire your strength. I do not wish to dissuade you from the path you started, merely inform you of that path’s consequences.”

“In the 21st century, killing is the worst crime a person can do.” I smile weakly at her words.

“You will kill again, if you continue along this path.” Her lips stretch out into a sympathetic smile. “It is not a question of how far this path will take you. The question is; do you possess the constitution to take it as far as need be?” Pantasilea solemnly regards Daniela’s gold flecked chocolate eyes.

“If I had to take time and think about it, I would say no. But, I’ve always felt strongly about stereotypes and gender discrimination. There’s just no need for it. Ever.” I take a long, deep breath and continue speaking. “I can’t say that I’ll enjoy it in any way, shape or form, but, I’ll do what I have to do.”

Pantasilea stands, moves around the table and lays her right hand gingerly on my, still bandaged, left shoulder. “You have the potential to be a great asset to the Order, Daniela. Never forget that. Ezio would not have offered you training if he thought you were not worthy.” She smiles encouragingly at me, which I can’t help but return.

“Thank you, caro amico.” My, now steady, right hand reaches up to rest on her left shoulder. “I’m not perfect, but, I’ll do my best.”

“Prego, caro amico.” She warmly replies. “Now,” She swiftly switches mental gears and goes to check on supper, “back to supper. Are those vegetables done, yet? I thought your knife work was improving?” I laugh at her smarmy wink.


	19. Chapter 19

“So, Daniela, are you ready for your training, today?” We’re walking through the assassin’s hideout on Tiber Island, side by side. “The Dottore said that your shoulder is well healed. Now it is time to show you what faith brings.” He nudges my left arm with his right.

“I’m ready, Matteo. It’s been a whole month since I got skewered.” My right hand comes up to pat my left shoulder where the arrow struck. “I’m not too sure about free running, but, hey? I won’t know till I try, right?” I look left and flash him a confident grin to match his lop-sided grin.

“Bene, to the middle roof.” He takes the lead up a couple flights of stairs and out into the cloudy afternoon sky. “Your weapons training and hiding skills are good, but your pick-pocketing and free-running skills still need work. Today I will show you a skill you must learn to do while you free run.” I listen intently while shows me to the edge of the roof. “It is called the leap of faith. Come. I will show you and you follow me down.” He moves to the very edge and points to the ground, some four stories down. “There, do you see the mound of hay? You must be able to spot them quickly while on the move.” By this point, I look stunned while I gape at him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I hear myself speak while my head slowly shakes back and forth. “You want me to jump from a four story building?” My arms come up in defence and one foot takes a nervous step back from the ledge. “Granted, I’m getting better at killing out of necessity, but, I’m not so sure about leaping from tall buildings.”

“You fell from two floors up and suffered no injury. Your training saw to that. This is done with posture and training.” Matteo lines himself up on the roof’s edge. “All you do is aim, jump, flip and relax. Relaxing is the most important part, if you do not relax, you will be hurt.” Shaking his arms for no reason that I could discern, Matteo studies the mound of hay. “Wait here but watch me. Try it after I climb out, if you want to. I’ll be back up shortly.” Once he finishes speaking, he jumps off the edge. After doing a slow 180 flip mid air, he lands gracefully on his back in the hay. A couple seconds later, I see him hop out of the hay and briskly brush himself off. Once done, I watch him agilely scale the building back up to me.

“There. You see? It is not hard, it just requires practice.” Matteo smiles at me, again. “Come line up here. I will try to explain how to do it.”

I hesitantly step up to the edge and look down at the mound. Taking careful time to measure the angle and distance, I position myself so I can survive the leap.

“You are doing that well. You want to approach the mound straight as you can.” I feel his strong hands take my shoulders and shift me just slightly. “All this must be done quickly and instinctively. If you have to take time to think about it, the guards will have enough time to get you.” I feel his hands leave my shoulders. “Your posture looks good. Just remember to relax. You are too tense. Relax and feel the wind as you fall.” I feel his hands on my upper back for a split second before he pushes strongly, sending me over the edge.

“You Jerk!” I shout to the world in the too brief second when I seem to hover beyond the roof’s edge. Then I fall, nose first, with a screech of protest.

“Relax and flip, Daniela!” He yells back at me.

The wind whistles past my ears while I manage to turn myself over. Closing my eyes, I do my best to relax just before I’m engulfed in hay. “Oh, that Jerk. I am going to kick his ass when I catch him.” I grumble unhappily while hauling myself out of the hay. I try to shake most of the prickly stuff off before I get too far from the mound. Seconds after I move away, another body hits the pile and Matteo rolls out and up to his feet.

“Ha ha! Good job! You are uninjured, yes?” He happily questions around my baleful glare. “I see that you are. Do you want to go again?” Why he hasn’t burst into flames is beyond me. “Try not to screech when you fall, yes?” He laughs loudly as he brushes off the residual hay from himself.

“Matteo, have I mentioned how much you irritate me, at times?” I query with a note of frustration in my tone.

“You may have mentioned it, but, you have yet to convince me to stop, Daniela.” He replies humorously. I grumble unhappily under my breath, shoot Matteo another glare and begin to scale the wall back up to where I started.


	20. Chapter 20

Training went well, yesterday. I did the leap of faith a number of times successfully. I stopped the urge to squeal after the fourth trip down. Matteo continued to give me pointers the whole time, but after the third time I pretty much had the idea of it.

Now, I’m skittering over rooftops practising my burgeoning skills. I can run faster and jump further every day. A huge grin blossoms across my face as I leap across a wide gap between two buildings. This feeling of flying is so much more exhilarating than any rollercoaster. The midday sun makes everything bright and cheerful.

“Stop! You do not belong up here. Get down now.” A male voice calls out from my right as I skip across some crates. I slow to a stop and turn to see who is there. A red and black figure with steel armor is brandishing a notched bow at me; Borgia. “Get down now or suffer!” He calls to me, again. Quickly scanning the space between us, I set off at a sprint towards him. He’s only on the next building over, more than close enough to get to. Hopping crates, rolling and coming up running, I soon close the space between us and pull my sword in my right hand. Dropping his bow and arrow, he fumbles as he tries to pull out his sword in response.

Opting for a classic case of misdirection, I wave my sword overhead for an attack but jump, instead, and deliver a powerful drop kick to his sternum. Force equals mass times acceleration, right? The hapless archer is lying flat on his back, winded, a few feet away. These guards should watch the whole body of the person attacking them and not just their naked steel.

“Requiescat in pace.” I say solemnly as I kneel and drive my hidden blade into his neck with a wet squelch. After retracting my blade, I quickly search his corpse; finding a handful of florins and two arrows. He gurgles wetly for a few seconds and my stomach does an unhappy twitch and turn. Closing my eyes, I stand, move off a few steps and sheathe my sword. Another shout to my left brings me back to the here and now.

Two buildings north I see two guards; one pointing with his hand, the other pointing with a loaded bow.

It’s time to exit stage left! Swiftly turning, I take off across the rooftops. An arrow whizzes past me at chest level, convincing me to duck around a taller building. Huzzah, a rooftop garden! I quickly dive into it and go still as soon as I’m seated. Seconds pass, then minutes and I hear nothing of the guards. Gathering my courage, I carefully stand and peek out from between the curtains of the garden. Ezio is staring me in the face from less than a foot away. I let out a startled squeal and grab the ledge reflexively so as to not fall backwards.

“What the hell, Ezio!” My heart thumps madly in my chest. “You scared the crap out of me.” I take a few deep breaths to slow my heart rate before climbing out of my hidey hole.

Ezio laughs at my surprise and anger. “As I have said, you have to always be alert.” His lips stretch out for a smarmy grin.

“Between you and Matteo, I’m not sure which one of you will kill me by heart attack first.” I bring myself up to stand directly in front of him; my hands planted on my hips. With my hood thrown back, he can clearly see the moderate look of disapproval directed at him. For some reason, he only smiles wider.

“Then you must get better, Bella.” He leans slightly closer to me, grin still firmly in place. “And then we will leave you alone.” Amusement lingers in his smooth Italian accent.

“I’ve barely been doing this for two months. I’d like to think that I’m doing pretty good.” I reply hotly. Hearing his obvious humour at my irritation only serves to make me more annoyed. Our gazes lock.

“Indeed.” He says absently with a charming smile. “I never noticed how different your eyes are, Daniela.”

“Huh?” My irritation melts away to be replaced with confusion. “What has...” And just like that, he’s kissing me. Bare fingers gently cup the right side of my jaw while the other hand makes its way around my left hip to the small of my back. The Great Ezio Auditore is kissing plain-Jane me! My ridiculously under-touched body lets out a small moan before my brain catches up to what’s going on.

I tear myself away from all of it: kiss and hands. Several steps back, I stop when my hips hit the rooftop garden.

“What the HELL, Ezio?!” I shout. He looks a little lost after my sudden departure. His arms are slightly outstretched in my direction. Several seconds pass. “Well?” I ask, not as loud as before.

“I thought...” His smooth Italian voice goes quiet for a few seconds. He drops his arms back down to his sides and exhales loudly.

“You know what? No. Just no. You’re my boss.” My panicked thinking takes a different turn. “I joined the Brotherhood to fight for people’s freedom, not to be someone’s _bed warmer_.” I spit the last two words out with a certain amount of venom. “If I’m needed for a mission, I’ll be at Caserma di Alviano. Addio, Messere Auditore.” Not giving him time or room to speak, I take off across the roofs to the nearest stables.


	21. Chapter 21

I carefully open the shutters to my room at Caserma di Alviano. Thankfully, Pantasilea keeps them well oiled and unlocked. This is not the first time, nor will it be the last, that I secret myself into their home. Night has fallen in the hours since I fled from Ezio on that rooftop.

Carefully looking around, other than being cleaned, I don’t see that anything has been disturbed since my last stay. I hop into the room and set the bag I made up, before leaving Tiber Island, on the foot of my bed. I shed my weapons, save for my hidden blade, and set them on my desk. Releasing a heartfelt sigh, I lie down on my bed, stretch out and gratefully close my eyes after a really exhausting day.

Soft foot falls wake me from my impromptu nap.

“If you’re not here to kill me, then you’d better have at least brought liquor.” I grumble into my pillow. Stifling a yawn, I rub my eyes and push myself up to sitting. I blink a few times before I look around and see someone sitting at my desk. Noting the ornate decoration on his assassin robes, I sigh and flop back down onto my bed. “What do you want, Ezio?” I ask softly, tiredly.

“I want to talk.” He states simply.

“About?” I see no reason to make this conversation easy for him.

“Yesterday... did not go well.” I snort mirthlessly at his words but refuse to move from where I lie.

“It was certainly unexpected, I’ll give you that.” I comment dryly.

“I thought you were interested.” He retorts defensively. “I do not see you the way you described.”

“What you did was much unexpected.” I say quietly. “Rumours have a way of lasting and spreading much further than they’re wanted. I won’t lie: I’ve heard several.” I hear him sigh and fabric rustles.

“So it would seem.” He replies, his voice sounding unhappy. “Where does this leave us?” He inquires neutrally.

“I don’t know.” I shrug while staring at the ceiling. I hear him shift in his seat, again. “Probably going to be a few days of awkward and then, well, it’s in the past, right?” I sit up, cross my legs and leave my hands resting in my lap. My lips crook into a tired smile and I focus on his face. “In all honesty, we’re both mature adults. It happened, yes, but it won’t affect our work. I still intend to fight for the Brotherhood. I really just need to focus on my training. Precious few people in my time are up to the standards that I need to achieve to be an Assassin. Besides, the future is in the future and who knows what it will bring, right?” I hope he catches my little olive branch.

“Coming from you, that last bit sounds weird.” He grins lopsidedly.

I blink a couple times thinking about what I said. Huffing in exasperation, I pinch the bridge of my nose with my right hand; head bowed, eyes closed. “I’m not even awake. Why do you insist on pestering me in the dead of night?”

Now, he laughs lightly at my expense. I look up and shoot him a mild glare. “I shall leave you, now. You do have a mission in the morning. Matteo has the information. My apologies for disturbing you, again. Buonananotte, Daniela.” Moving decisively, he agilely climbs out the window and disappears into the night.

I carelessly wave my hand at the window and flop back down onto my bed. “Men.” I grumble into my pillow and try to go back to sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

Wandering around Roma without a purpose, I blend seamlessly with the meandering crowds in the large city. It’s strange that though the language is different from New Brunswick, Canada, the atmosphere is much the same in the markets. People hustling around looking for all sorts of products: food, cloth, jewellery, pottery, you name it. It’s a beautifully hot summer day, late in August.

Spotting a few wealthier people browsing the market’s wares, I casually blend in, stalk them one at a time and exercise my deft fingers. I don’t agree with stealing, but, sometimes it’s necessary. Each money pouch slips easily into a belt pouch as it’s acquired. I casually make my way over to a partially occupied bench and sit while leaning on my spread knees with my elbows. A chorus of shrieks of dismay briefly lance out from the crowded market. My lips twitch some before I school my face into a calm, disinterested appearance.

A feminine white robed figure on a roof on the other side of the market catches my eye. Her slender figure is crouched down at the edge looking at me. I rise to join her when she makes a gesture with her right hand. Navigating the still crowded market, I cross the open area and enter a short way into a nearby alley. Looking up, I quickly map out the walls of the buildings making the alley and deftly scale the wall to my right. Tiziana meets me at the top once I’m back on my feet.

“Your skills have improved greatly, Daniela.” She greets me warmly while we grip each other’s right forearms in our right hands.

“It’s coming up on two and a half months since Ezio recruited me; it had to happen sooner or later.” I laugh at my own expense. She merely shakes her head at my cheek.

She leads me southwest across the buildings. “Where are we going?” I ask, a little winded, between roof jumps.

“Tiber Island.” Tiziana calls back to me. She comes to a stop and turns to me. “I do not know why, but the instructors are calling back the more advanced recruits. Matteo asked that I find you.”

“Slave driver.” I mutter around thoughts of my teacher before taking a deep breath. “Ok. Lead on, Tiziana.” I motion for us to continue.

The afternoon sun beats down on our backs and hooded heads as we, once again, set off towards Tiber Island to the southwest. Moving swiftly across the rooftops, our return soon turns into a race, as these things tend to happen. Legs pump and heart races; I give it my all. We’re neck-and-neck as we pass a Borgia tower. Breathing heavily, my lips stretch out into a fierce grin. I just might beat her, this time.

A sharp cry from Tiziana brings me to skidding halt on the next rooftop. I look back and see her writhing on the ground; her left calf pierced with a bloody arrow. Pulling out two throwing knives, I kick into a run towards her attacker; one blade in each clenched fist.

“Hey, Ugly!” I shout at the Borgia archer. I roll behind a rooftop garden and am rewarded with the crack of split wood. Better he shoot at me than someone who can’t dodge, right? A quick peek shows his attention back on the blood trail Tiziana is making while trying to get away. “I swear they have worse memories than goldfish.” I mutter to myself. Seeing an opportunity, I sheathe both knives and launch myself into a sprint at the flakey archer. Several running steps and a short jump between buildings brings him within range. I neither blink nor hesitate. My tackle knocks us both flat with my hidden blade sheathed between his shoulder blades. Blood gushes out when I pull my left arm away from him.

My eyes close. “Requiescat in pace.” I stand and take two steps away before they open, again. Using spare cloth, I briskly clean the blood from my blade and retract it. The cloth is dropped to flutter in the wind until it hits the roof.

“Little help?” I hear Tiziana whimper in pain. Moving over to where she’s leaning on a box, I kneel and examine the arrow.

“It doesn’t look like you’ll bleed out if I remove it, but, we should wait till we get to the hideout.” I wrap it securely with my decorative belt sash. “That should hold it for a few minutes.” I stand and offer her my right shoulder. “We gotta split before more guards show up.”

“You and your strange phrases.” Tiziana gasps out while throwing her left arm over my shoulders and holding on. Her face white, we hobble to the edge of the roof that has pigeons roosting on it. “You first, I’ll follow.” Tiziana grits her teeth and motions for me to make the Leap, first. I make sure she has her balance before I pull away completely.

Quickly lining myself up, I fall off the roof. Seconds after pulling myself out of the pile of hay, I hear it rustle with Tiziana’s landing.

“Daniela? Where is Tiziana?” Hearing Matteo’s voice, I turn to regard him.

“Tiziana is injured: arrow through her left calf. Help me get her out of the hay?” My words come out quickly while I motion him to the hay mound.

“Si. Let’s get her back home and looked after.”

_Home..._


	23. Chapter 23

Rolling over in bed, I sigh and give up the battle. Sleep and I aren’t seeing eye-to-eye, tonight, I guess. Nearly four months of waking up in this era and I still look for my LED alarm clock. I haul myself up out of bed, cross the room and look out the window. Noting the moon’s location, I guess the time to be around 2am. Tomorrow is going to Suck.

Dressing myself in my robes, I wonder what’s going on back home. Did time stop for them? Or are they running around in a panic because I vanished without a trace?

Shaking my head, I don my weapons: throwing knives, crossbow, sword and hidden blade. Maybe some time on the rooftops of Roma will settle my mind. I quietly leave my room and head for my usual rooftop in the hideout. Avoiding the creaky stair steps is slightly harder when nobody else is awake; the boards give slight protest when my weight touches them.

Upon reaching the desired floor, I open the door and slip out. The door closes quietly with a small click, behind me. My feet carry me forward a few steps and my eyes close. My lungs swell with the crisp chill of the night. The lack of commercial pollution in the air is like a feast that your lungs gorge themselves on; once you get past the smell of too many humans in poor living conditions, that is. A sad smile stretches my lips.

“Oh Lucca,” I sigh, “you would have loved it here.” Feet on automatic, I find myself at the edge of the roof where a double thick rope is attached and making a ‘bridge’ towards the next building. “Everything is so different and so dangerous.” I sit with my feet dangling over the edge of the roof. Looking up at the starry sky, I take the crossbow off my back and lay down on said roof. “I miss you all so much.” I whisper to myself. Thoughts and images of my brothers flit through my head.

Arturo: tall, dark and handsome. His confident grin pasted on while straddling his black and metallic blue ‘09 Kawasaki Ninja. Crotch rocket is a better name for his ZX-6R.

Fillipo: tall, rugged and strong. He’s laughing while his three children tackle him to the ground after being away for a week. His son and younger daughters squeal joyously.

Lucca: small, wiry and curly hair. He looks funny suited up in his climbing gear, but, rock climbing is far from safe. He makes a rude gesture as I take more pictures. His grin takes the sting away.

“I am sure that they miss you, as well.” A soft, but, smooth male Italian voice speaks out. A yip of surprise escapes my mouth with my heart pounding in my chest. My hood falls off my head when I jerk myself up to peer into the shadows. When my brain catches up to my new reflexes, I steady my breathing and roll myself up to stand.

“Good grief, Ezio. Must you always do that?” Silence meets my frustrated query. I glare at his still figure in the shadows of a wall. Re-holstering my crossbow, I move over to where he’s sitting. My previous thoughts get tossed back into a deep, dark corner. Dropping down next to him, sitting cross legged, I fold my hands in my lap and look up at the stars. Sensing his desire to hide, I keep my gaze on the sky. Some minutes pass while I study the twinkling stars.

“You’ve been really quiet, lately; we haven’t really had any time to talk.” I hear him shift a little. “Time doesn’t heal anything if you refuse to acknowledge what’s hurt, Ezio. Sometimes the best thing you can do is talk about it, hard though that can be at times.” That said, I stand and flip my hood back on my head.

“Rumor mill, again?” He doesn’t bother to ask what I’m referring to. His quiet words sound subdued to me. I turn to look at his hooded profile.

“Yea. They’re really bad here.” I watch him for another few minutes before offering him my right hand. “Come on, you big lug. I don’t know the particulars, but, Caterina was in the wrong. I also know that that doesn’t help much, if at all.” His gloved hand reaches up to grab mine and I haul him to his feet with a small grunt. He’s not small under those robes and armor, I’ll say that!

“It is complicated. I am not saying that I like it, but, I do not hate her for it.” He quietly says, still holding onto my right forearm.

“I can only hope that nobody ever expects you to.” My voice rings with sincerity.

“I am sorry for assuming your friendliness meant you wanted more, Daniela. I was wrong.” He speaks firmly with his face neutral, watching me closely.

“I’m not sure if anybody in this century knows this, but it is possible to have a friend of the opposite sex without being a fuck buddy.” My lips stretch into a small grin to take the sting out my gentle reprimand. I pat his right bicep with my left hand a couple times. “I’m your friend, Ezio. Friends are there for each other.” I give him a bit of a cheeky grin. “Now, lets go forget our woes and run around the roofs of Roma. I need some more instruction with climbing and free running.”

“Bene. Lead the way.” His trademark grin stretches his lips as he finally lets go of my right arm and we head off into the dark early morning.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point the chapters are current. Posts after this one will happen every week on Tuesday, unless LIFE decides to kick me sideways..

Fire watching has always been a much-loved hobby of mine. Watching the dips and whorls as it consumes its fuel always mesmerized me. Standing there on the edge of the cobbler’s roof, I was utterly captivated with the roaring flames of the tower that Ezio just lit up. Small pieces fell, flaming, to the ground. My eyes followed several pieces as they succumbed to gravity. The wind wafted the smell of burning wood and the acrid stench of burnt flesh across my face.

They say that hindsight is 20/20. I didn’t hear the footsteps creep up behind me. The crack to the back of my skull, and the ensuing darkness, is a different matter.

Groggy moans leak from my mouth when the enveloping blackness recedes slowly from my senses. The throbbing in my head makes me wish I hadn’t woken up. The cold of the stone under my left cheek alerts me to my position: curled up on my side with my arms in front of me. My nose is assaulted with the stench of offal and mildewed hay which makes my stomach give an unhappy turn. Breathing through my mouth is only marginally better: tasting mildewed hay doesn’t make me want to be sick, at least. My hands come up to gingerly rub the sides of my head and my eyes slowly open. Blinking a few times, I look around and see old stone walls with a barred door. Checking my person, I find myself devoid of weapons. They even took the long strip of cloth I used to keep my hair from my face. Trust issues, much? They did leave me my assassin’s robes, though.

“This... is not good.” I mutter slowly to myself. Pushing myself up to sitting, my right hand goes up to gingerly prod the egg on the back of my head. Yeah. I’m lucky I don’t have a concussion. My fingers feel something sticky where I’m injured.

“Sound sleeper, I see.” An amused rough male voice called out. My head whips around to study him while my arm drops back down to my lap. Wearing the red and black armor of a Borgia Captain, he stands taller than my five foot six frame. His face carries three-day-old stubble and his mouth twists into a malicious grin. The rest of his face is hidden by an ornate red plumed helmet. “Not going to talk, either. Not to worry. Cesare will get you talking when he gets back to Roma.” I can feel myself pale at the thought of being in Cesare’s clutches. Word gets around about that one’s cruelty. The Captain laughs at my pale expression. “Behave and you might get to meet Cesare.. untouched.” My hands begin to shake slightly at his nude cruelty. Remembering the Creed, I muster my courage and push myself up to stand firmly in the face of his sadistic brutality: my hands clenched into fists to still their tremors. My heart hammers in my chest as my breathing speeds up.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m some helpless, scared little girl. I’m a scared girl who is more than happy to snap your neck.” I reply with my own brand of viciousness: voice dark and gold flecked eyes narrow. “Show me your face so I know who to hunt down, later.” Fighting to keep my voice from quivering, I look him in the eyes.

“Good. Fight back. It will make your fall all that much harder when Il Capitano has his way with you. Two days, Assassino.” He answers with a toothy grin which does more to knock me off my proverbial pedestal than his words. His grin speaks of years of learned cruelty. “Enjoy your night.” And with that, he’s walking away down the hallway with the rest of the guards following his lead. They take all the torches with them, too, leaving me in pitch blackness.

Now that they’re gone, I’m free to release the tension I held onto to keep me upright. My knees shake too hard for my legs to continue to support me and so I slump down to the floor with my knees drawn up to my chest. Breathing quickly in mounting panic, my limbs jerkily move me so that my back is pressed to the furthest stone wall from the door. Wrapping my arms around my legs and burying my face on my knees, I don’t notice when the fabric covering my knees slowly goes from dry to wet.


	25. Chapter 25

Time slowly crawls while I sit huddled in my dank, dark cell. Eventually my terrified tears dry and I drift off to sleep for short periods only to wake heart-pounding in a cold sweat. In the hours that pass, I remember reading that the human brain can only spend so much time gibbering in fear before going numb. I feel so lost. If only someone would tell me why I’m in this era; this century.

Eventually, my mind turns inward: going over what I know since being forced here.

There’s a secret war going on between secretive factions, apparently, all over the globe. The Assassins and the Templars fight for the freedom of humanity: the former through socialism and the latter through iron-fisted control.

The Assassins prefer to fight from the shadows to serve the light. They would see the people free to make their own choices without the influence of others.

The Templars prefer to be more overt with their greed and will do anything to gain power. Murder, incest and genocide are common bed-fellows of the Borgia, in Italy.

And isn’t it just the damndest thing that all that I’ve seen here in 1501 is so close to a _video game_ that Sarah’s brother showed me, last year? I now regret not paying more attention. Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood; a wild game of fantastic acrobatics and death.

I suppose it doesn’t matter much how I first learned of it. All that matters is that I’m here and in very real danger. My mouth and throat are dry from the night’s cry and lack of water.

I’m just dozing off when the door to the cell block opens. My head snaps up from my knees and I watch the door to my cell. Breathing slowly, deeply, I try to calm my racing heart. The thudding of several booted feet heralds the arrival of my captors. Climbing to my feet, I quickly straighten my rumpled clothes and situate my hood low over my face. The only reason my hands aren’t shaking is due to the fact that my brain is beyond that point with fear.

Five brutes appear outside my door and level loaded crossbows at me.

“Stand against the wall. Fight and you get shot.” One speaks gruffly. I nod nervously and take a small step back to touch my back to the wall. I watch him pull out a ring of old keys, fit one to my door, unlock and open it. Two of the other guards trade their crossbows for swords and follow the one who unlocked the door into my cell. With two bolts trained on me, I stand there trying not to shake. My heart still races.

With practised ease, no doubt due to my docility, I find myself trussed up and escorted out of my cell to a small windowless room not far away. I’m forced to duck for the low ceiling as they shove me in and follow behind, also ducking. Only the two holding my arms follow after me. My arms are spread out and chained to the wall. Some slack allows me some room to move but not lower my arms. My feet are chained together at the ankles and that chain is attached to a metal ring anchored to the floor in the middle of the room. Once I’m secured, they turn to a pair of braziers in the corners of the room by the door: their pits full of red hot coals. They pile up something on the coals that I can’t readily identify. Clouds of smoke quickly billow up into the small room. Job done, they exit and close the door.

Panting slightly, I wiggle to get more comfortable on the unyielding stone. The room, itself is surprisingly clean save for black ash caked to the corners of the room where the braziers sit. The smoke billowing out of the braziers slowly fills the room. The sharp smell of marijuana assaults my senses. Wait.. What? Weed?

“Why would they gas me with weed?” I muse to myself around a couple hacking coughs. A giggle escapes my lips. A few seconds later a snort. The chains rattle as I break out into laughter. Imagine! My first real experience with marijuana and I’m chained to a stone wall getting gassed with it. A brief thought occurs to me that I shouldn’t be nearly so amused at my situation, but, it doesn’t last. All the while the braziers continue to pump out the acrid smoke. My head feels woozy but I keep giggling until slump over into an awkward position. Sometime later, my brain finally gives in to the stress of the last 24 hours with the drugs in my system and everything goes black.


	26. Chapter 26

Eyes closed to mere slits, I’m startled out of my near doze when the door to my cell is shoved open. Slowly lifting my head up, I look at one of the guys standing at the open door. Confusion mars my face as I notice a pair of identical men at my door.

 “Hey guys, are you two twins?” I ask lazily. They frown at me and motion to the men in the cell. “Cause you could be identical twins. It’s freaky.” I grin at them. “Or is that the weed?” I ask laughing.

Rough hands unbuckle the iron on my wrists and ankles, my arms flop down to my sides and hit the floor. After what feels like hours of hanging off a wall in irons, a pained groan echoes up my throat when my arms are released. My muscles protest moving after hours of immobility. My head feels like there’s clear cotton in it; I’m aware of what’s going on, but, it’s still blurred.

“Grab her and haul her out.” A vaguely familiar male voice barks from outside my cell. Big hands grab my arms and haul me out of my tiny room.

“Ffuuck, I want cheesies. Do you guys have cheesies?” I mumble distractedly while they drag me out of the tower. Slowly bringing my head up, I look at the guards pulling me along on my right. “Why do you have horns?” I ask in confusion. “You have a twin, too?” I blurt out upon seeing two of him. “Haha! This is some good shit!”

“Shut up, Putana Assassin. Nobody cares.” A man to my left barks at me.

“I’m fuckin starving. Gummy Bears would be soo good, right now.” My stomach rumbles in displeasure. “Seriously guys, drugged bread and water are just a tease. I’d kill for some pizza.” A bright flash of pain explodes onto the back of my skull and I go limp in their arms.

“I ----, shut --, Putana, ------ -- make you!” My ears ring painfully making him harder to understand around the throbbing in my head.

“------- Belardino said not -- hurt her. Il Capitano ----- --- victims hale.”

“You guys are no fun at all. Little bit of weed would loosen you up.” Stumbling to my hands and knees on the wagon, I sit back and lean against the bars of one side. My right hand comes up to gingerly inspect the freshly opened lump on the back of my head; my fingers come away sticky, again. The wagon’s wood is well-worn but sturdy enough. The rusty bars of the cage could stand to be touched up, though. Lifting my left hand up, I wave it around and watch the rainbow blur. “This is cool.” I say, grinning like a fool, the ringing in my ears slowly dimming. “Hey, Guys, where are we going?” I ask through the haze and pain still enveloping my mind. “Fine then, ignore my rambling.” I giggle lightly, “I’d ignore me, too!” hooting with laughter. I shift to lie down on the cage’s floor and watch the rooftops.

Several minutes of twists and turns later, I notice a few white forms leaping between buildings. A stray thought occurs to me that that might be the proverbial cavalry. I wonder how much I can annoy my silent guards before they literally get jumped.

“I hope we’re not going to see Cesare. Those pustules are narsty.” I muse to myself outloud. “Don’t get me wrong, at least he wears a mask, but they’re still visible on his neck and hands.” I shudder theatrically. “I hope you guys wear gloves when you have to shake his hand, that’s all I’ll say about it.” The cart jerks to a stop and I crane my neck around to look at the front of it.

“I said to shut your mouth, Putana!” The same guard bangs his large hammer on the cage making it clang loudly. “I will enjoy watching as Il Capitano tortures you for all that you know.” A vicious grin follows his masochistic words. I see a figure in white stand at the edge of the roof above the wagon and I smile away the still very dim thread of worry.

“It is a sad sad man that feels he must beat a woman to prove his dominance.” By now, all the guards are bristling at my pointed words. “Requiescat in pace.” I say with a confident grin when the figure in white raises an arm.

I imagine the faint whistle of over half a dozen arrows shooting down from the rooftops to their targets. Looking around in detached interest, I watch all but one of the arrows targets drop like stones. My eyes squint and blink a few times as the pair of twins fall off the back of the wagon, pull themselves up with the cage’s bars and look around for the unseen archers. Several figures in white converge on the lone guard twins and my cage.

“Nite nite!” I call out to the guard twins just before they’re taken down by one of my Assassin brothers. Pushing myself up to sit with my legs crossed, I grin broadly at the blurred man trying to open my cage door. “Hi, Ezio! Please tell me you brought food.” I wave at him as he waits patiently behind the guy, whom I think is Matteo, trying to open my door. A click announces his success. I clamber unsteadily out and to my feet. Flailing a little, I try to grab the cage’s bars. I’d rather not eat dirt. “Wow. I am so very baked. Who wants to help me home? I can’t walk.” I laugh at my own sorry state. Ezio moves forward and scoops me up into his arms.

“Come. I will carry you. The rest of you keep the way clear.” A series of nods later and the seeming multitude split off in different directions. I try to focus on Ezio’s face while he shifts me into a better position and immediately moves off into Roma. “Thank you, Ezio.” I speak quietly. Giving up trying to focus my sight, I close my eyes and rest my head on his chest.

“You are welcome, Daniela. This is what friends do, is it not?”


	27. Chapter 27

“Almost there, Daniela.” Ezio’s calm voice rouses me from my impromptu nap on his chest. I take a deep breath and open my eyes. Looking across the bridge at the hideout on Tiber Island makes me smile. Two days is a long time when you’re being terrorized and drugged.

“Mm. How long was I out?” I ask groggily. Reaching up, I briefly rub the sleep from my eyes.

“Not long. An hour, maybe.” He responds casually.

“Okay.” I take a deep breath, look around, note the colourful streamers playing in the wind and exhale slowly. “Yup, I’m still high,” I laugh lightly at my own expense when my stomach gives an unhappy gurgle. “and hungry. Please tell me there’s better fare than bread and water?” I plead while looking up at Ezio’s face.

“I am sure that there is something for you to eat.” Ezio chuckles lightly at my happy expression.

“Sweetness.” I chirp happily. “Let me down, please. I wanna try walking.” I wiggle my legs just enough so that he has to put me down or drop me. I soon find myself gently set on my feet with his hands holding my shoulders, just in case. “Thank you.” I beam a smile up at him and he nods in response. “Now I just have to convince my legs to behave and I’ll be good to go.” I mutter to myself.

Taking a couple tentative steps without my knees buckling is a very good sign. Ezio lets go of my shoulders as I slowly cover the last few meters to the front door of the hideout. I pay no attention to the rest of the entourage as they scale the building to the alternate entrances: I know I’m not steady enough to attempt it.

The door opens before me and Tiziana is there to help me to the office where much of the planning takes place. Once seated, I notice that we’re not alone. Bartolomeo, Niccolo, Pantasilea and Ezio are all spread out around the big table in the middle of the room. Two walls are covered in books on darkly stained shelves. A third wall has an assortment of paintings of different templar targets on it: Cesare Borgia and his father, Rodrigo, among others. Pantasilea, in her pale blue and lace dress, moves to sit in the chair next to me.

“Are you unharmed, Daniela?” She asks softly while looking me over. I notice her pinched expression and start to laugh.

“Haha! Sorry. Weed stinks, a lot.” Seeing some confused expressions, I elaborate. “Marijuana?” More confusion. “It makes you see things that aren’t really there and it reeks.”

“Ah. Hashish.” Niccolo speaks up.

“Yea, that stuff.” I affirm. “I want to eat something before I get cleaned up, though.” Tiziana pats my shoulder and leaves the room. “I’m fine. Cesare, apparently, wanted me unharmed before he got his hands on me.” I shudder some at that thought and focus on Pantasilea. “I suppose being completely baked doesn’t count.” A dull throb on the back of my head reminds me of my, now dead, guards. “Ow. Right.” I wince and gingerly touch the cut. “Lousy jerks. When I get my hands on Belardino, I’m gonna seriously kick him in the family jewels.” I feel gentile hands move mine away from the back of my head.

“Move your hands, please, Sinorina. I need to take a look and clean it up.” A slightly muffled male voice asks from behind me. Tiziana returns with a plate of things to eat and I smile in thanks, ignoring the pink wings sprouting from her back.

“Thank you, Dottore.” I mumble at him with my head bowed. Seeing my vision blur slightly, I close my eyes.

“Can you tell us what happened, Daniela?” Pantasilea asks softly, still on my right side.

“Nothing much, unfortunately. He didn’t have the balls to show me his face.” I reply while keeping my eyes closed. My arms cross defensively. “He threatened rape and then chained me in a tiny room with two braziers burning weed. Hashish, sorry.” The dottore finishes up with my head and I hear his footsteps leave the room. I lift my head from where it rested on my chest.

“You mentioned a man named Belardino. Is he a Captain?” Ezio inquires.

“I’m not sure, but he is someone with some authority. I heard something about him not wanting me hurt. That’s all.” I shake my head a few times at my own splotchy memory.

“Why won’t you open your eyes?” Ezio asks in confusion.

“Because,” I drawl while cracking a smarmy grin, “as fetching as those pink butterfly wings are on all of you, they’re not helping me get over being high as a kite.” Now I open my eyes and burst into gales of laughter at the stunned expressions on Ezio and Bartolomeo: jaws slack and eyes wide. Niccolo has his eyes closed and is pinching the bridge of his nose with his right hand. Pantasilea’s laughter joins mine in a lively chorus.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quoted Prompt - “Whatever is going to happen will happen, whether we worry or not.” ― Ana Monnar

One of the most mesmerizing sounds that I know of is the pounding of heavy rain on a hard surface. The rhythmic plink of each drop as it falls from high in the sky and lands on a hard surface is almost as soothing, to me, as watching fire. Metal roofs are the best for listening to the rain. They echo the sounds all through the house: I just lay back, relax, close my eyes and listen.

Sadly, in the year 1501, they don’t have metal roofs.

Rooftop gardens are my next best choice. They’re sturdy enough to withstand the wind and most have long strips of cloth loosely covering the top halves of the four walls.

I’m in one such garden, right now. I found it on Tiber Island in my first month of training. The dead potted plants are long gone and I keep the structure well maintained. The plain off-white curtains on one side are tied up so I can watch the rain fall, if I choose to.

Stretched out on my back on a soft wool blanket, I sigh in utter contentment as I listen to the rain beat on the roof of the garden and the building under me. Distant thunder rumbles and crashes through the air. My eye lids slide closed at the not too distant crack of lightning.

“That looks comfortable. May I join you?” My eyes pop open and I see Ezio already climbing into my small haven. I smile, sit up and cross my legs.

“Sure.” I reply while patting the section of the blanket beside me. The pounding rain pulls my mind away from Ezio getting comfy on the floor and I turn my head to watch it fall.

“You always disappear during a rain storm. Is this where you go?” I can barely hear his softly spoken words over the sound of the rain and thunder.

“Yeah.” My voice comes out softly. A few minutes pass in silence.

“This is not the safest place for you to relax.”

“I would love to see an archer try to keep his footing in rain like this.” Giggles peek out between every couple words at the image my words conjured. I smile serenely once my laughter dies. The rain’s unrehearsed crescendo rises and falls in slow waves of energy.

“The Borgias are still looking for you.”

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to get better at hiding in plain sight, now won’t I?” My smile stretches wider when a stray gust of wind blows rain onto my face.

“You really should be more careful.”

“I’m a big girl.” I say quietly, sighing in contentment.

“It has only been three days since we brought you back.”

“I know that. Believe me. I know.” I say patiently. “I would like nothing more than to be safe from the dangers of the world.” The rain begins to taper off and I can’t hear any more thunder. “Whatever is going to happen will happen, whether we worry or not.” Turning slightly, I look him with a smile. “I will be better prepared, next time. I promise.”

“I do not want you to take big risks, anymore.” He states firmly. His mouth turns down in disapproval.

“You’d better kick me out of the Brotherhood or move me to Venice, then.” I say bluntly; my inner feminist balking at his implied tone. One eyebrow twitches northward.

“Why would I have to do that?” Ezio asks in confusion.

“Because there is no safe aspect to this job; everywhere I turn, each new mission I take, it’s all dangerous. This whole freaking era is dangerous. And no amount of twisting your nose up will change that.”

“You aren’t going to give up on this, are you?” His eyebrows furrow in frustration.

“Pfft! Please.. I’m a twenty first century liberal feminist. ‘Give up’ isn’t in our vocabulary.”


	29. Chapter 29

“So you’re telling me that he’s always been like this?” I ask her incredulously. We’re sitting at a small rectangular table in a medium sized kitchen. The hearth is blazing merrily below the oven along the North wall. The rough cut pale stone blocks are stained black above the openings. Maria Auditore opens a cupboard on the wall to the right of the hearth and pulls out a dark bottle with a cork in it. Smiling at my annoyed expression, she moves over to the table to set the bottle down. Her knowing brown eyes study my face while she seats herself.

“Si, though I do not blame him for it. Our family has always been in danger in some way and it is how he shows that he cares.” She speaks honestly, her voice suffused with warmth. “Wine?” She offers before filling our cups. “Besides, it has only been a couple weeks since your rescue. I am sure he will relax, soon.”

“Grazie, Madre.” Claudia says from my left. “I agree with Mother, Daniela.” My eyes trail across the room to look at her. She delicately smells the wine cradled in her right hand before taking a sip. “It is how we know that he cares most in these difficult times.” She casts a smile my way. The plain wall behind her has several worn wooden shelves holding a large assortment of dried herbs and spices both in and out of bottles. The clean counter below them shows many years of inconsiderate use with knives.

“Thank you, Maria.” I smile gratefully at her. “Why does he have to be such a jerk about it, though?” I ask a little petulantly. Taking a sip of my wine, I smile at the dark fruity flavor it gives off. “It’s not like I want to be hurt and or captured by these jerks.”

“I do not know, Daniela.” Claudia sighs. “I wish I did so I could understand why he was so against me taking over La Rosa in Fiore.”

“I imagine that he’s like that because he has so few family members left.” I reason to her while pondering the conundrum that is my future Mentor. I can certainly understand that aspect of him. I’m not close to my brothers, anymore, but I will still do all I can to help them, if they call.

“Maybe it is because you two are such good friends?” Maria queries thoughtfully. “He seldom visits, but, when he does, he often speaks of you.”

“I know he’s just trying to look out for me, but, I agreed to train to be an Assassin so I could help him while I’m here. I want to help the people of Roma so they can be free of the Borgias.” I slowly shake my head while studying the diminishing contents of my cup. “Women can be just as strong as men.” My voice comes out softly but passionately. Several minutes pass while I take slow sips of my wine.

“You like him, do you not, Daniela?” Maria asks gently.

“It doesn’t matter if I do or not, Maria.” I sigh loudly while keeping my eyes on my cup. “I want to go home, at some point.”

“I do not understand.” Maria speaks in confusion.

“We thought you were from Italia?” Claudia asks sounding just as confused as her mother.

“I was born in Venice, just not this past century.” I admit quietly. Looking up at them, I see the confusion that I was hearing written plainly on their faces and can only smile. “Ezio already knows of this, so I don’t mind telling you two. Please keep it to yourselves, though.” I take a deep breath to steady my nerves and speak. “I was born in the year 1980 in Venice. Something brought me to this year in history.” I keep what little knowledge of the Assassin’s Creed games that I do know locked in a deep dark corner of my mind. They can never know. “I don’t know why or how. I can say with the utmost certainty that if I’m given the chance to go home, I will.”


	30. Chapter 30

Matteo told me to take the night and relax, but my thoughts kept chasing me down. Two hours of free running lead me to this dingy tavern a few streets south west of the hideout. My eyes saw the simple foaming mug on the old wooden sign and I thought ‘Why not?’. Why not, indeed..

Feeling the world begin to tilt, I smack my right hand down onto the bar to steady myself. I laugh at my wobbly knees and try to sit properly on the stool I nearly just fell from. The rough-looking bartender busily wipes up my spilled wine. Everything blurs whenever I move, like watching a 3D movie without the glasses on.

Why am I here? Oh yea. Smooth and driven, he’s all I can ever want in a man. Mmm. This wine is exceptional: nice strong kick and candy in its sweetness. Was it always this sweet? I don’t remember. The quiet moments with Ezio were always sweet; the very definition of ‘romantic Italian’. Wine will help things make sense, right? Mmm. So very sweet.

“Daniela?” That voice. Shouldn’t I know that voice? Slowly turning, I notice someone looking at me. Why is that? Do I know him? Long white robes. Deep hood. Ezio has a deep hood, too.

“Mat-o?” My voice slurs and his name comes out wrong. Squinting, I endeavour to study his face. “Wha you doin ‘ere?” Uugh. Words. Need more wine. Or a good lay. Lifting my drink, a happy hum escapes my throat when the sweet red wine dances over my tongue. “Mmmmmm. Good.”

“Look at your sorry state. You are of no use to me, like that. Come on.” He pulls my right arm over his shoulders, his left wraps around my waist and easily slides me off my stool. Something gets tossed at the bartender, who nods.

“Buh m not done ma cup.” Stumbling more than walking, I’m pulled past blurred faces and backs. A door creaks. Crisp fall air smacks me in the face, rousing me from part of my drunken stupor. “Uugh. I’m gonna regret this in the morning.” I mumble unhappily while my left hand drifts up to raise my hood. “Where’re we goin?” I’m surprised at how steady my voice sounds. My feet try to remember how to walk but fail. Stumbling along, Matteo pulls me quicker than my feet can manage. Silence is the only response to my question. “Some Guinness would really hit the spot, right now. Couple pounds of honey garlic wings, too.”

“What is Guinness?” Matteo finally breaks his silence.

“Very dark, thick beer: tastes kinda like tar, at first. It’s a stout beer.” Images and memories of the dark yeasty beer flit through my mind and my mouth starts to water.

“And wings?” He queries further.

“Chicken wings split and deep fried. Then you add a sauce of your choice.” I groan quietly as more images of enticing food flit through my mind. “Thanks, by the way. Now I want beer and wings when I know I can’t even get them, here.” Glaring up at him, he merely shakes his head at my antics.

A hole in the road goes unnoticed by us until my stumbling foot catches it and I find myself sprawled out on the dirt. “Ouch.” I mutter into the dirt. Rolling slightly, I try to push myself up onto my knees.

“Ok. You cannot walk. I will carry you.” Matteo says, not bothering to hide the laughter in his voice. “You are fine, Daniela. You hurt worse when I started teaching you about the leap of faith.”

“I still remember you pushing me off a building, Jerk.” I grumble at him while he picks me up with an arm behind my back and the other behind my knees. “I hope I have Tylenol left from the last time I got skewered.” Resting my head on his right shoulder, he starts his usual ground-eating walk. “I’m prolly gonna be so sick, tomorrow.” I ramble on while laughing at my future self.

“I do not understand half of what you are saying.” He states bluntly, his brisk pace carrying us around another corner.

“I would not worry about that, Matteo.” A smooth male voice calls out from the shadows of a market stall. “Half of the stuff she says does not make sense.” That sounds like Ezio.

“Oh bug off, Ezio.” I grumpily mutter. “Were you following me?” I question him a touch sharply.

“No.” He replies quickly as he moves from the shadows to stand before us. “You have a mission, Matteo. Tiziana is waiting for you at the Colosseo. I will take Daniela home.” I soon find myself transferred from Matteo’s arms to Ezio’s. “Go. Safety and peace.” A quick nod from Matteo and he’s faded into the night.

“You know, I can walk.” I start my protest of being drunk and in his arms. Wiggling my legs, I try to get him to put me down. He easily holds me still with my head on his left shoulder.

“Now now. If you could walk, Matteo would not have been carrying you.”

“Jerk.” I growl at him while shooting a dark glare up at his smarmy grin.


	31. Chapter 31

There are days that I love my life.

There are days that I don’t.

Today, I’m sitting on my favourite spot on a roof of the hideout wishing I had never met a certain Italian. People say that you can’t deny what the heart tells you. True, though that may be, I can still refuse to act on it.

It all started with my parents. I was always told that if you weren’t happy with your lot on life, it was up to you to change it. I was never happy with my physical form, so I changed it. I went to school and joined a gym to make what I wanted a reality. My parents wanted my brothers and I to learn about different cultures so they moved to another country that was rich with people from all walks of life.

It made sense that those who were of lower income chose their path and saw no reason to change it. In my mind, if they accepted their situation and didn’t want to change it, who was I to judge?

I suppose I lived what many would call a ‘privileged’ lifestyle. We had two good cars and a decent sized house with a yard to run in. There was always enough food for our table. Our clothes were sturdy and only our old play clothes had holes. Yea. My parents gave us many things; uber big blinders being one of those things.

It wasn’t until I was shoved into this video game of history that they were really taken away from me. Violently. Man, was that a bitter pill to swallow.

All around me, a saw abject poverty and despair. People lived in hovels with dirt floors. Their clothes had more patches than the original fabric of said item showing. Faces smudged with dirt, they worked and toiled to barely earn enough to feed themselves. I believe that mothers have it worse, here, though. They quite often turn to selling their bodies to earn enough money to feed their child(ren) in addition to themselves. Men don’t have it easy, either. They’re expected to be big and strong but what can one do when they have a small build?

The buildings of Roma clearly showed the distinction between those who ‘have’ and those who ‘have not’. When I first learned to free-run, there was many a day where I feared the roof I had just landed on would collapse under my feet. Most of the work I did was in the poorer parts of Roma, so this feeling came to me frequently.

The first few months of training had me too tired to contemplate any sort of relationship of an intimate nature. Matteo was, and still is, relentless with my training.

Hand-to-hand fighting was easier, for me, to learn than using weapons. My previous martial arts training helped more than I thought it ever would. Matteo was fond of simulating a bull in a china shop while I got to learn to dodge and attack. Lately he’s gotten more refined in his attacks and it’s more difficult to fend him off.

Swords and knives were difficult to learn to fight with because, where I was from, the most sinister knife I used was against a med-rare slab of beef off the barbeque. All Matteo can do while training me in these things is shake his head and wonder how I can have knowledge of fist-fighting but not weapons.

Ranged weapons seemed to be my niche. Skulking around quietly taking out my targets is much easier, in my mind. Being able to take my time finding and eliminating my target follows the tenant ‘Hide in plain sight’.

The hardest thing that I’ve had to wrap my mind around is taking other human’s lives, by far.

I suppose that’s why I prefer ranged weapons so much. I’m not right there to see the life drain from their bodies.

I remember something that Pantasilea told me right after I made my first kill.

_“It is not a question of how far this path will take you. The question is; do you possess the constitution to take it as far as need be?”_

That’s what she said to me.

Defending the present lives and future rights of those poor souls, here, in Roma is something that I want to do, while I’m here. The learning curve is a whole lot bigger than I imagined it could be, though.

“Are you ready?” Matteo’s voice shakes me from my contemplations

“Who is our mark?” I bring myself to my feet and instinctively raise my hood.

“Valentino da Siena. Our reports suggest he will run.”

“I’ll be ready, then.”

“Molto buona. Come, Tiziana is waiting.”

I may not agree with the taking of lives, but, if this is the only way, then I will do all I can.


	32. Chapter 32

“Come on, Ezio. You need some down time.” My hand extended towards his seated form, I smile at his semi-hooded face. My feet are soundless on the worn boards of the flat roof we’re on. The edge of the roof is surrounded by a half wall about three feet high and made of the same kind of boards. The corners of the building show the rough-cut stone that makes up the basic structure of the three-story building. Ezio’s seated and leaning against a small wooden structure with a door that leads into the building. One of his legs is bent and pulled up to his chest with the other laying straight before him. His right arm is resting casually over his bent right knee while his left is draped over its respective thigh.

“Down time?” His voice laced with confusion, he stubbornly keeps his gaze on Roma’s skyline; constantly shifting, looking.

“You know, letting your mind relax and have a drink.” My lips snake up into a lopsided grin.

“Just because you want something to happen, does not mean that it will.” He responds sounding slightly tenser. I guess having two novices fail missions in the last week would make anybody tense. They’re lucky to be alive.

“That doesn’t mean that it can’t, either.” I retort smartly while propping my hands on my hips. “Sometimes you just have to roll the dice.” He stands abruptly and begins to pace back and forth around the roof. “Besides, you’re too tense.” Tracking his movements, I watch him pace back and forth on the roof. The clear sky shows off the moon in all its glory, highlighting his white robes fluttering in the gentle breeze.

“You do not understand.” He says sternly. “This is not a game, Daniela. Amando and Drago only just escaped with their lives.” Dropping the pretense of stealth, I can actually hear his footsteps on the worn wooden roof. “How am I supposed to defeat the Borgia if my own recruits make stupid mistakes like that?” His voice growls out in ire as his gaze is everywhere but on me.

“My friend, I don’t know.” I reply softly while moving to intercept him and stop his angry movements with a firm hand on his shoulder. Up close, I can see his eyebrows knit together in frustration. “Look at me, please.” I wait patiently while he masters himself enough to look at me. A half smile stretches my lips. “I know it’s hard. Taking the Borgia down is a huge undertaking that won’t be done easily. Missions will fail. People will die. That’s just the way it is.” Seeing his face twist angrily, I clarify my spoken words. “I don’t mean to say that those things are inconsequential, at all. Those two were very lucky when others before them weren’t. Give it a week or two and send them out with someone more experienced: they’ll do better. They gained some humility.” Feeling the tension slowly leech out of his stiff shoulders, I smile wider. He opens his mouth to respond and I notice a flicker of movement behind him. My eyes open wide with surprise upon seeing the glint of polished steel. “Guard! Behind you!” I gasp before diving behind a half wall.

“Where is he?” Ezio whispers from right behind me.

“He was right behind you on the next roof. All I saw was a polished gun barrel.” I whisper back.

“Merda muto.” He grumbles before hopping the wall and leaping across the expanse between the two buildings.

“Stop, Assassino!” An unknown male voice calls out in frustration. That must be our nosey guard. Peeking over the wall, I see the guard looking around wildly, trying to find where Ezio went. A dark form silently drops down from an adjacent, higher building onto the hapless guard. A wet gurgle reaches my ears as I stand up and make my way over to its source.

“It would have been nice to talk to him.” I state bluntly, stepping down off the railing to his left.

“It matters not. The Borgias are trying to expand.” He blithely disregards my critique with a casual wave of his bloodied right hand. His left arm snakes up and encircles my shoulders. “Bene. I suppose I will go to Bartolomeo’s party and we can both relax.”


	33. Chapter 33

The wild drumming of different drums thunders across my senses while the string instruments weave their melodies in and around it. Whistling flutes trill through the night air and gyrating bonfires leap into the sky.

Bartolomeo really went all out for this party. The normally open courtyard is filled with long benches, tables, and chairs. The areas where the practise dummies usually stand got cleared out for bonfires to dance and writhe on piles of lumber. Tall lit torches mark the perimeter of the courtyard.

Watching the throng of dancers and musicians brings a wide smile to my lips. Beyond the bonfires, chill of mid-winter is in the air. I’m glad I wore my assassin uniform. Its long sleeves and thick pants make the nearly freezing temperatures bearable. The decorative white cape over my right shoulder doesn’t do much to help me stay warm, unfortunately. I flip my hood up and rub my hands together to try to warm them a little.

“Quite the party, is it not, Daniela?” Claudia plunks herself down beside me on my right.

“That it is, Claudia.” I reply, turning to smile at her.

“Come, Daniela. You have been sitting too long.” Ezio’s smooth voice cuts in. Turning to look at him, I see his hand held out in invitation.

“We’ve barely been here an hour, Ezio.” I respond dryly.

“And you have been on this bench the whole time.” He retorts with his habitual half grin. His hand is still held out.

“And it’s getting late. I’m tired.” I lean slightly away from his reaching hand.

“You are the one that wanted me to get out and relax.” He responds as he takes my left hand from my lap and tugs me to my feet. “So now you will dance because the New Year is almost here.” My lips crack a grin at his persistence which he takes as assent and I find myself whirled off into an energetic dance around a bonfire.

“Go have fun, Daniela!” Claudia calls out to me as I’m dragged off. “I will not wait up for you!”

“CLAUDIA!” I holler in protest. Ezio’s laughter stops me from trying to go back and have a word or two with his dear sister.

“Do not mind her, Daniela.” I can still hear the laughter in his voice while he speaks. “She has been trying to match me up with someone for years.” The feeling of his strong hands holding me as we skip through the different moves brings back memories of my last talk with Claudia and I feel my cheeks heat up. A combination of the fire and the press of dancing bodies strongly reminds me of all the clubs I used to frequent. It creates a haze of energy that my body mindlessly follows along with.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” I ask half heartedly. Memories of our first, and only, kiss flit through my mind in the moment he pulls me close for a dip. I’m mortally certain that my cheeks are flaming red, by now, judging by how warm they feel.

“You do, but, I am very patient and persuasive.” He replies smoothly.

A surprising spin puts us out of the ring of dancers and my happy grin stretches across my face. Looking up into his eyes, I try to tamp down the broiling feelings trying to rise up.

“I believe it is now after midnight.” He says quietly, still holding me in the circle of his arms.

“Happy New Year, Ezio.” I reply with equal quietness; content to remain in his arms, just this once. A small part of me wishing for more, so much more. His firm touch draws me closer. The crowd around us is all but forgotten.

“Happy New Year.” His whispers and my hazy mind notices that we’re very close before that distance disappears entirely. His warm lips press and move slowly over mine. My eyes slide closed while a low moan drifts up my throat. I feel his right arm snake its way around my waist and his left circle around so his hand rests on my back.

_Please, give me this one moment._


	34. Chapter 34

“Belardino da Verona is the target.” Matteo’s firm voice breaks through my concentration on a map. Looking up at him, our gazes meet and I’m careful to keep my face neutral. After a couple seconds of holding my gaze, he nods once and looks back down at the papers and maps covering the old wooden table. Somehow I don’t think it would be acceptable to grin maliciously at the thought of taking out the person who imprisoned me.

We’re situated in a smaller room on the ground floor that’s just big enough for the small table and 3 bodies currently occupying it. The walls are plain, off-white plaster with no shelves.

“Our job is to help clear the way for Ezio to get in the tower.” Matteo speaks firmly while pointing out a few spots on a map. “After that, we make sure no more guards arrive to assist.” Looking up, again, he glances briefly at Tiziana before studying my face closely. “This is not for vengeance, Daniela.” I guess my stiff upper lip isn’t fooling him. “You do not have to like it, but, that is the way it is.”

“Then why bother to include me at all?” I ask sharply if a touch petulantly. My arms cross over my chest, tight with tension.

“Being an Assassin is about control. If you cannot learn that, then you need not continue your training.” He responds sternly. My gaze drops to the tabletop; focusing on nothing. “We need you to focus and watch our backs. Can you do that?” His voice loses its strong tone and I look back up at his face.

“Where would you like me to be?” I ask soberly. My shoulders lose some of their tension as I consider his words.

“Wherever works best for you. Tiziana and I will start on the roofs and move down as needed. I want you to stay up there and work your magic.” He says sounding confident before grinning wryly. “Just stay alert, this time!”

“Something tells me that I’m not going to outlive that.” I reply in exasperation.

“Not so long as we are here to remind you, Daniela.” Tiziana cut in to join in on the fun.

“Fantastic.” I mutter sarcastically with a roll of my eyes.

“Haha, yes.” Matteo agrees in his typically jovial tone. “Back to business, though. Ezio want to strike before midday so you have a few hours to get ready and get into position. You all know of the Dottore’s shop not far from there? Bene. We will meet on the roofs, there, and head out as soon as we can gather.”

“Can do.” I reply.

“I will be there.” Tiziana speaks from beside me.

“Molto bene.” Matteo affirms and we disperse to gather the necessary supplies. “Bring lots of bolts.” He calls after me. I wave a hand over my shoulder before turning a corner on my way to the armoury.

After a brief stop at said armoury, I head to my room for some last-minute things. Upon entering my room, I notice Ezio sitting at my desk looking at some pages that I left strewn across it.

“Hi,” I greet while shutting the door. “is everything ok?” My feet move me to stand near him.

“Ciao. Si, I just had a few minutes free and wanted to ask you something before we have to leave.” He replies sounding hesitant, his fingers shifting the pile of papers into a neater stack.

“Go ahead. You can ask me pretty much anything.” I smile at his hooded head. Watching him, he sets the neater stack of papers down on the desk and stands to face me. His ungloved left hand comes up to cup the side of my face and I can feel my cheeks warm slightly. Memories of the New Years party at Bartolomeo’s override any thoughts of pulling back.

“Be careful out there.” He says quietly before pulling me in close for one of his mind-searing kisses. My arms find their way around his torso. My brain distantly notes that his right arm found its way around my waist to hold me closer. Several seconds pass before our kiss is broken but not our embrace. My eyes blink open and I don’t remember them closing in the first place.

“That,” I reply a little breathlessly, cheeks aflame. “was not a question.”

“True. It was not. We must go, though. Buona fortuna.” Gently, he pulls away with one last tender kiss. His knowing smirk attaches itself to his lips before he makes his way out, shutting the door behind himself.

It takes me a few seconds to reboot my brain enough to get my head back in the game.

“Damn. That boy really knows how to scramble a girl’s marbles.” I shake my head with a wry grin.


	35. Chapter 35

“So, you both are ready?” Matteo’s voice cuts through the remnants of the warmth still swimming through my mind before I left Tiber Island. I nod while double checking my weapons. “Bene. Let’s go. Ezio will be there soon.” Matteo’s mention of Ezio sparks a light heat to my face. Thankfully, he and Tiziana were already turning to begin their run. Moving as one, we begin our sprint across the roofs for a short distance before splitting up to scout and find the best vantage points.

Coming in from the north, I tumble and leap over boxes and narrow alleys. The buildings my feet carry me over are not in the best shape with the Borgia still in control. Roof tiles crack and fall off with nearly every running step. Remembering to keep my eyes open, most of the guards I encounter don’t let out more than a startled squawk before a well thrown knife silences them.

Skidding to a stop east of the tower, I look once more upon the place of my former imprisonment.

“It looks imposing, but it is just a symbol.” A smooth male voice startles me and I whip myself around with my sword out and held up in defence. Glaring hotly at Ezio’s smirking face, I slide my sword away and turn back to regard said tower. He continues, “Remove that and the people will rejoice.”

“It needs to burn.” I mutter quietly but with a certain amount of venom.

“It will.” He replies with confidence. “Come. The others are nearly ready.”

“Right. I got your back while you’re outside.” I turn from the tower that Belardino’s hiding in. “Go do what you do best.” I state firmly, looking at him, before heading off. A few jumps and tumbles later, I find myself crouched on a four story building looking out over most of the open area surrounding the Borgia-controlled tower. Its rough stone walls rise up a couple feet higher than the tiled roof, making a perfect spot to take cover and use my crossbows. Yes, two crossbows, because they don’t load nearly as fast as a 9mm and sometimes you need to make a second quick shot.

Straining to spot Ezio in the crowd, I see frequent patrols of at least three men around its base. Peering over the top edge of the wall, I make note of the passing crowds going about their daily lives. Some socialize under the few trees that dot the open area while others relax on benches. The flicker of a white hood near the main door catches my eye when he breaks from the crowd and slips in their front door. A soft chuckle escapes my lips as I marvel at his panache. I shift a little in my crouched position and look around at the surrounding rooftops for guards.

An arrow zips down from somewhere on my right, dropping a lone guard to the dirt. Seconds later, another arrow takes down another lone guard who let out a faint gurgle before collapsing. I make the decision to help clear the area of what guards I can. Several minutes pass with us slowly whittling the amount of guard numbers down.

A commotion in the tower draws my attention away from the few guards remaining outside. Blinking in surprise, I watch Ezio burst from a first floor window, land with a tumble and sprint a short ways away. A patrol and a half of guards pour from the tower and surround him.

Seeing Ezio stand straight in the loose ring of half a dozen guards, I quickly load my crossbows and wait. Hefting my loaded weapons, I watch him raise a closed fist over his head. Two other white forms leap from their respective hiding places, quickly take down their chosen targets and vanish at a wave of Ezio’s hand. A wolfish grin stretches my lips as I level both crossbows on different targets and grimly pull their triggers. The loose circle of guards around Ezio drops from six to two in a matter of seconds. Of the two guards left, one panics, screams and runs away scared. Quickly reloading my crossbows, I take one up and carefully put the lone remaining guard in my sights. His red plumed helm marks him as a Borgia Captain.

Belardino da Verona: my two-day captor and tormentor. I’m not entirely sure if watching Ezio cut him down constitutes as karma paying him a visit, but I’ll gladly take what I can get.

Hearing a bellow of outrage from Belardino, I watch him agilely engage Ezio in combat. Watching the two of them circle each other looks like some sort of dance if not for the rough clangs coming from their clashing swords. Grinning fiercely, I watch Ezio parry and lunge for a swift kill. Belardino is swifter still, and manages to deflect the deadly sword and land a kick to Ezio’s midsection. To my surprise, Ezio loses his balance and drops to his right knee with his left arm around his mid section.

“No.” I growl lowly as my hand contracts and the aimed crossbow bolt flies off for its target. I watch Belardino pump his sword in the air briefly, to taunt his winded opponent. His next step ends in ruin when he steps forward and hollers out in pain from my bolt protruding from the back of his knee. Visible shock and agony shoots up his spine before the leg buckles and he crashes to the ground. “Jerk.” I mutter a touch less dark than my previous comment.

I watch Ezio pull himself up to stand and walk over to Belardino’s writhing form. Remembering Matteo’s instructions, I resist the urge to descend to hear what’s being said. Matteo comes out of hiding to join Ezio as Ezio finishes the deed and pauses briefly to give the respect that he never fails to offer.

“Daniela?” I turn to watch Tiziana join me on my chosen roof. “It is done. Let the guys light the tower. Let us go home.”

I smile sadly at her choice of words and silently follow her across the roofs of Rome.


	36. Chapter 36

Knocking my feet on the wall beside the door on the hideout, I try to dislodge some of the mud from my boots. Cursing quietly, I express my displeasure at the cold winter rains gushing from the sky.

Giving each boot one last kick, I give up and enter the hideout. Not stopping, I quietly make my way up a few flights of stairs and to the armory. Desiring solitude, I leave my hood up and pass people with a small wave as they greet me. My heavy steps land on one of the loose boards at the top of the second flight of stairs and it creaks in protest. Upon arrival of my destination, I rid myself of the excess bolts and crossbow. The armory’s walls are lined with a multitude of different weapons; long, short, pointy, blunt, heavy and ranged. I mechanically put my excess things in their proper places, leave, and quietly shut the door.

My feet, operating on automatic, clomp their way up another level towards my room. Turning the last corner, I come to a stop when I see Ezio casually leaning against the wall next to my door. The plain wood walls and long rugs on the floors don’t do much to make one feel at home, here. Money earned by the Brotherhood is better spent on things other than décor.

“Hi,” I say solemnly, not quite able to muster the energy to smile. “what’s goin on?” I ask politely while trying to see his face through his deep hood. I see a strained smile stretch his lips some before he speaks.

“Ciao. May I come in?” His left hand motions to the door next to him.

“Don’t you usually just walk in?” I retort with a touch of confusion, remembering just this morning’s invasion.

“You didn’t come back with Tiziana.” He dodges my question. “I wanted to make sure you were not hurt.” His head comes up just enough for me to see his eyes watching me closely.

“None got close to me.” I deliberately misunderstand his question. Giving in, I move closer to him and lead him into my room, shutting the door behind us.

“Belardino is dead.” He says simply while his right hand comes up to pull his hood down.

“Yea, he is.” I say quietly as I remove my weapons and cape and arrange them on my desk.

“Thank you for that well-placed bolt.” He replies, with equal quietness, from close behind me.

“You’re welcome.” My fingers fiddle with the placement of my hidden blade on the table.

“Did his death bring you closure?” His words make my spine stiffen and I feel a hand come to rest on my back. “I have seen these things happen before. It will take time.”

“Part of me is happy that he’s dead.” I mutter quietly. “The rest of me wishes that I had aimed higher than his knee.” The hand rubs slowly up and down my back in long, soothing strokes.

“It would not have changed the end result.”

“No, but, he might have gotten to see that he picked the wrong woman to threaten.” My words come out quietly, but with a touch of venom. My eyes squeeze shut when the memories of my capture flit through my mind. The hand on my back leaves me, briefly, before returning and resuming its trek up and down my back. I dimly hear a few soft thuds near our feet.

“Come here, Daniela.” Ezio speaks softly as his hands gently turn me around and pull me into a tight hug. Burrowing my face on the warm skin of his neck, my arms find their way around his torso. My brain absently informs me that those soft thuds were his armor and weapons. Several minutes pass as we stand there holding each other. Ezio, then, pulls away slightly without letting go and guides me to the bed. After laying down, he pulls me down with him and I pillow my head on his shoulder. “Bene,” I feel his voice rumble in his chest. “just relax. Today was a long day.” Wriggling a little to get comfortable, my right arm comes up to rest on his chest while my right leg makes itself comfy between his. I let out a sigh and greedily soak up the offered comfort.

I don’t remember falling asleep on his warm chest.


	37. Chapter 37

Weaving my way through the crowds, I keep my eyes moving, looking for remnants of Borgia’s Guards. The formerly packed dirt under my feet is wet and sloppy, thanks to the recent rains. Passing by several vendors and their customers, I search the stalls for the one I want.

Niccolo tells me that since I am well enough off with my training, I can now do missions in Roma and Firenze. Today’s mission, to find and purchase a few shops in a newly liberated area, is not the first he’s sent me on over the last few weeks. I doubt it will be the last, either.

My eyes finally find the shop I’m looking for and I make my way over to its boarded up entrance. I stand there and look at all the boards covering the horse stalls.

“It is terrible.” A young man comes up to stand beside me. “The guards forced me to close my shop when I could no longer pay their taxes.” I turn to look at him. He’s taller than me by several inches with dirty shoulder-length brown hair held back in a tail. His clothing is sturdy but unwashed for some time. He has a bit of money, but clearly not enough to live by. He continues speaking, “But, I hear other sections of Roma are gaining freedom. Maybe there is hope for this one?” He asks, sounding hopeful. His left hand comes up to make a small gesture towards the burned husk that used to be a Borgia Tower.

“Indeed.” I reply. “I would like to see this stall opened, again.” I watch the excitement bloom on his face as I speak. “Here’s the money needed.” I reach into a large belt pouch and pull out a small purse that clinks with coin. “You will need to keep careful records, though. Somebody else will be by to make arrangements for the profits to be collected.” Studying his face, I only see cautious hope suffuse his features. “Does that sound acceptable?”

“More than acceptable!” His tired face splits with a huge smile. “Grazie, Signorina. Grazie.”

“You’re welcome, Signore.” Holding out the small pouch of coins, I watch him quickly take the offered pouch and tuck it into a hidden pocket. “Arrivederci.” Smiling, I take my leave and move off into the crowd, once more.

My feet carry me past several more vendors until I turn down an alley for a shortcut to the next closed shop. The noise of the market fades out to a dull roar. My feet carry me around a corner and I stop dead with a gasp. My eyes fall on a white robed figure slumped on their right side on the ground, their back covered in blood. Rushing to his or her side, my fingers search for a pulse on their neck. A faint thumping touches my fingertips.

“Good.” I mumble to myself; relieved that they yet live. A quick pat and search of his (no breasts) body reveals the source of his injury. A bloodied crossbow bolt nearly half way to the fletching is sticking from the left side of his back. “Not so good.” I grimace unhappily. A pained grunt escapes him at my pat down. I reach up, push his hood back, and gasp once more. “Matteo?” I gently turn his head so I can see his face better, but not so much as to put pressure on the bolt. His face is drawn and pale. I pat his cheek a couple times, viciously holding back my waterworks. “Maatteoo?” My voice comes out sounding shaky to my ears. My right hand gently brushes his loose hair back from his face.

“..daniela..?” His weak voice reaches my ears. His eyes flutter and open a little.

“I’m here, Matteo.” My voice still sounds shaky, but I force myself to smile when we look into each other’s eyes.

“..cannot... breathe.” He gasps weakly. I watch him try to swallow and feel my eyes tear up when a bit of blood drools out the corner of his mouth.

“You’re bleeding. Badly. But I’ve got you.” I say quietly while dabbing my eyes with my sleeve. Kneeling beside him, I reach out and take his left hand in both of mine. Squeezing gently garners no response. “I’ve got you.” I whisper, once more, watching the life leave his eyes. Blinking rapidly, I slowly reach up and gently close his eyes. “Requiscat in pace, Matteo.” Relinquishing my firm hold, I allow the tears to flow freely down my cheeks.


	38. Chapter 38

Pulling on the horses reins, it comes to a gentle stop at the end of the bridge. I stretch one leg over its rump and drop to the ground on its right side. Walking forward, I take its bridle, and lead it, with the cloth-covered cart it pulls, around to the stables on Tiber Island.

While unhooking the cart, several men and women in white beaked robes emerge from the surrounding buildings.

“What happened?” One woman asks, keeping her hood raised.

“I don’t know.” I say quietly.

“What is going on, Daniela?” A man asks from behind me.

“I found Matteo bleeding in an alley. He’s dead.” I reply simply. Silence reaches my ears. Done unhooking the cart, I lead the horse over to the stable hands to care for and return to the slowly growing cluster around the cart. Someone pulls back the brown blanket that covers the bottom of the cart to reveal Matteo’s still face.

Standing there looking at his slack face, I remember all the times he made my days of training feel like hell. Memories of being pushed off roofs when I hesitated. All of the hide-and-seek games around Roma to learn stealth. Phantom pains shoot across my back from all the times I didn’t block fast enough.

A hand on my shoulder brings me from my memories.

“Do you know what happened?” I should have known that Ezio would find me in this crowd.

“No.” I say quietly. “I found him in an alley near the tower you recently torched with a bolt in his back. I got to hold his hand when he died.” My voice sounds flat to my ears. He gives my shoulder a brief squeeze before going away.

“It is a sad thing that has happened to Matteo.” Ezio speaks out to the crowd. Looking around, I see more than a few wet faces. I watch him move close to the cart where Matteo’s head is and look down upon him. “Requiscat in pace, Matteo. We thank you for your dedication to the Brotherhood.” He looks back up at those around him. “I will need a few people to help…” I can’t stand here and listen to his funeral preparations. Rubbing my hands over my face, I give my silent fare wells and head for my room.

My feet slowly carry me up the flights of stairs to my place of solitude; my room. Acute feelings of loss flood my system, once more, now that I’m in my safe place. My shaking fingers quickly divest myself of arms and armour before I collapse onto my bed. My things lie forgotten on the floor while my pillow soaks up a fresh round of tears.

A long time later, I slip into the dark oblivion of sleep.

I’m woken later by someone sliding beneath the covers and an arm beneath my pillow. An indignant squeak escapes my lips and I move to jump out of bed for my blades.

“Sshhh. It is just me.” Ezio. I ought to have known. A sigh escapes my lips. Turning to face him, I bunch my hands into fists in the fabric of his undershirt covering his chest and nestle my head under his chin. His right arm wraps around me and I can feel his hand soothingly rub my back.

“Thank you.” I murmur quietly, his warmth and presence lulling me slowly back to sleep.

“You are welcome, mia caro. Sleep, now.” He whispers before kissing the top of my head. I hum in agreement before sleep claims me, once more.


	39. Chapter 39

“Thank you, Pantasilea, for letting me stay here for a few days.” I reach over and pull her into a tight hug, which she returns just as strongly. The late evening sunlight streams through the lacy curtains in Pantasilea’s sitting room. Sometime during our hours-long conversation, she moved from the padded, high-backed arm chair to sit beside me on the matching sofa. The colourful tulip pattern on off-white fabric nicely accents the pale polished wood of its legs. The room’s walls are stained dark with different paintings depicting fields with flowers or trees. “I feel so strung out that I’m not sleeping much, anymore.”

“It will be ok, caro amico. Maybe not better, but ok.” She says warmly. Letting go slowly, she leans back some to study my face with a welcoming smile. She’s dressed in an intricate burgundy and lace dress with a modest neckline. Its bust comes high and is all burgundy with a wide strip of lace around the waist over the burgundy. The long lace-trimmed sleeves have some poof around the bicep with slits that let the lace show through. The skirt stops just above the floor and is pleated with the same burgundy fabric but every other pleat has lace appliqued over it. Her shoes are simple but comfortable light brown flats. “You are welcome here for as long as you need.” She stands and motions for me to follow her.

“Thank you.” I smile gratefully, standing and following as she leads me along a familiar route through her home. “I know. Like many things, it just takes time. Niccolo has been keeping me so busy these last two weeks that I haven’t had time to think about grieving.” Looking at her neatly coifed hair, I self-consciously run a hand through my own short-messy locks. All work and no play make for a bedraggled appearance. My long robes are crusted with dirt along the bottoms from the long horseback ride here.

“When word came of what happened to Matteo, I feared that that was what they would do. I am glad that you are here. Everybody needs to mourn in their own way.” She states patiently with a small shake of her head.

“Men usually do things differently.” I reason to her. Being so focused on her and our discussion, I fail to notice that we’ve arrived at the closed door of my room.

“They do.” She agrees while turning to regard me. “Please let me know if you have need of anything.” She’s the perfect hostess: patient, empathetic and accommodating.

“I will, thank you, caro amico.” I say solemnly before opening my door, entering, and quietly shutting it. Absently, my eyes flit over the new earth colours that replaced the green of before.

Slowly shedding the pieces of my chosen trade, I let them drop to the floor, ignored. Bringing my hands up, I rub them on my face and neck, feeling the rough calluses on my skin. Undoing several buckles and buttons, I let both layers of my robes slide down my shoulders to pool around my feet. Agile fingers undo the ties for my pants and they soon join my shirts on the floor. Ruffling my hair up, I move slowly across the room and collapse onto my plush bed. Wiggling around, I burrow under the thick quilts to get comfortable. The late evening rays of sun shine high up on my wall.

Memories of my capture and imprisonment flit through my head. Belardino is dead. It’s in the past and that’s where it will stay. I can’t help but wonder why they killed Matteo, though. If Cesare likes his victims hale, why did they go after Matteo, then? Why?

Staring at the ceiling, minutes slip by and I keep turning that question over and over in my mind. Why me? Why Matteo? I’m nobody and Matteo was a peon and loved it. Eventually, my mind quiets and I finally drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Sometimes our fate is different from the one we imagined for ourselves.”  
> ― Jean Kwok


	40. Chapter 40

Breathing harshly, I push myself to keep moving as quick as my tired legs will carry me. I ignore the quartet of Borgia guards yelling at me to stop from not far behind me. A stiff easterly breeze blows the hood from my head, and I let it flop on my back.

“Excuse me. Pardon me.” I say quickly while shimmying through a crowd of simply dressed women. A few shoot scathing looks as others exclaim there indignation at my undignified pace. “Sorry!” I call back, once I’ve broken from their midst, still jogging down the street.

“There she is!” And extremely observant guard shouts from the other side of the group of women before diving in and scattering said women. Their shrieks of dismay and pain echo out in all directions.

“Oh would you guys just Fuck Off, already?” I complain out loud before I kick off into another mad dash down the streets of Roma. Spotting a side street, I skid around the stone-covered corner and crash into a standing minstrel that ends with both of us in a heap on the ground.

Groaning in dismay, I quickly untangle our limbs and lever myself to my feet. My left hand twitches and my hidden blade pops out of its sheathe while my right hand pulls out a throwing knife. Ignoring the minstrel’s moans, I quick-step away, and my eyes quickly scan the walls around me but fail to find an easy way up. A guard skids to a stop at the mouth of the side street that I’m now several meters in. His mouth opens to give shout my location. My right arm jerks and steel flickers through the air to embed itself at the base of his throat. My feet spin me around and I’m sprinting down the street. Absently, I twist my left hand around and retract my hidden blade. The remaining guards holler their anger at my retreating back and I can hear their thudding boots on the packed dirt behind me.

My lungs are screaming for respite, but, I know I can’t stop for anything. I continue to search for something, anything, to give me a bit of a lead. Beginning to panic, I dodge left and right around the small groups of people walking through the street. There has to be one somewhere.

There!

A rope lift to the roof of a five-story building a short ways ahead. Forcing my aching legs and lungs to keep pumping, I take a quick peek over my right shoulder and curse in my mind. I don’t have the wind to speak even those few words. They’re gaining on me. Growling in anger, I force another burst of energy and finally make it to the rope lift. Holding on with my right hand, I make quick slice with my hidden blade and hang on for dear life as it jettisons me up into the air above the tall building. My feet and knees tingle with shock upon landing next to the lift. A ragged moan echoes up and out my throat. Feeling my knees weaken and collapse, I find myself on all fours panting, trying to catch my breath.

A clatter of booted feet on wood brings me back to my senses and my head turns to the right. My eyes pick out two pieces of wood sticking up from the roof jiggling. Perfect. A ladder. Those oafs are on their way up and a faint whine escapes my lips.

Gathering my last bits of strength, I lurch to my tired and sore feet and jog to the edge of the roof away from them. Pushing off strongly, I fly across the short expanse between the buildings. An arrow whizzes over my head when I land in a crouch. Not pausing at the new development, my legs force my sore body across the roof and span between buildings.

Landing with a roll on this lower building, I notice water and hear the creaking of wooden boats bumping into docks. I must have reached the Tiber and safety. Finishing my roll, I push myself to my feet and lurch across the last few meters to freedom.

Excruciating pain explodes from my left calf moments before I push off to dive into the Tiber. Twitching violently over the edge of the building, I let out an agonized scream as gravity takes hold. Feeling the wind whip through my hair, I regain the sense to take a deep breath a split second before I hit the water.

Floundering, I manage to bring my head above water and gasp in a lung-full of oxygen. My arms and right leg automatically begin to tread water. I do my best to ignore the pain shooting up from the bolt still in my left leg. Looking up from where I fell, the guards are nowhere to be seen. Scanning the area around me, I see a few gondolas secured to posts. Men and women mill around the edge of the water, a few are watching me bob in the water. Some stairs lead up and out of the water on both sides of the river. A large bridge spans the river north of me.

“Good.” I mutter to myself. I’m closer to Isola Tiberina than I thought. “Ok,” Still speaking to myself. “not much further. You can do this.” My left leg screams in protest the whole time. Swimming wearily, I slowly make my way to the back door of the hideout. My eyes blink frequently to try to banish the black spots forming in my vision. Some minutes pass before I manage to haul myself up out of the filthy water and onto semi-dry stone in the secret entrance.

I lay there, left cheek to cold stone, for several minutes before I find the strength to push the door open and half crawl, half drag myself inside. Hearing the soft but quick steps of many feet approach, I gratefully release the stubborn grip I held to consciousness and allow the darkness to take me.


	41. Chapter 41

Cold.

Everything is cold. Bursts of pain lance up my leg bringing too brief seconds of clarity before the cold reasserts itself and I’m enveloped in blessed darkness. Muffled voices frequently invade my place of solitude. Weird echoing voices, too, almost like someone talking into a tin can, yelling loudly but there are no tin cans in the 1500’s.

The feel of wet fabric on my face and neck sends shivers down and up my spine. The back of my neck is cold and wet. Swallowing, my throat feels like coarse grit sand paper.

“I think she is beginning to wake.” A muffled male voice speaks quietly near my feet. Maybe he is the source of those tinny voices I heard.

Breathing shallowly, the stench of sweat pervades my sinus’ and I dredge up a low groan.

“Daniela?” A woman asks, sitting near my head on my right. She sounds familiar. “Are you awake?”

Running my tongue around my teeth, I groan again. The rancid fuzz pervading my mouth is nearly enough to gag on. Somebody please get me some toothpaste?

Turning my head towards the woman’s voice, I crack my eyes open and immediately blink several times with a hiss of complaint. My eyes feel like someone stuck needles in them. I never knew candles to be so bright. “Yes, unfortunately.” I reply with a soft, dry voice. My right hand comes up to rub my eyes.

My limbs feel weak and my head light. Shifting slightly, a dull throb thrums up my left leg from my calf. Oh yeah. That.

“Bene. Vabene.” I recognize her voice, now.

“What happened, Claudia?” I ask in confusion.

“You were very sick. The dottore did not think you would live.” I swallow nervously upon hearing her words. Blinking a few more times, I cautiously open my eyes and look in Claudia’s direction. Seeing her warm smile, the rest of the room slowly comes into focus as my eyes adjust to the candle’s light. The plain wooden walls of my room at Isola Tiberina are a welcome relief to my tired mind and body. A dottore patiently sits at the foot of my bed while studiously watching me.

“Yay for vaccinations.” I mutter sarcastically, my voice scratchy from dryness. “Water, please?”

“It is right here. Let us help you sit up, first.” I notice that her smile never changes but her eyes shift to look at someone behind me. Before I can turn my head to see who is there, an arm worms its way under my shoulders and neck to gently lift my back off the bed. Feeling my balance waver, I quickly close my eyes to try to stave off the impending fainting spell. “Easy, Fratello.” Claudia admonishes, I can only presume, Ezio. I remind myself to take slow, deep breaths: in through the nose, out through the mouth. Sooner than I anticipated, he is lowering me back down to the bed and I find myself reclining on several pillows. The swirling in my head slowly abates. “There you go, Daniela, and here is your water. I will help you, when you are ready.” After a few breaths I open my eyes to look at her, once more.

“Grazie, Claudia.” I say gratefully. A few awkward moments of her helping me drink and I finally turn my head to the right. My jaw drops open and I can only blink in shock.

Ezio looks terrible.

His once-pristine uniform is heavily wrinkled with some food stains on the front. Spots of dried blood mar the cuffs and bracers. Most of his armour is missing along with most of his customary weapons: only his hidden blades, throwing knives, bracers, and belt remain on his person. With his hood thrown back, I take note that he’s not shaved in days. Studying his face, I see lines of sorrow along with profound tiredness. His lips stretch into a relieved smile.

Feeling my eyes water up, I reach out to him with my shaky right hand. He leans closer, gently grasps said hand, and holds my palm to his left cheek. Smiling in relief, I ignore the odd tears that streak down my cheeks.

“Hey, you.” I whisper in greeting.

“Ciao, bella.” He replies equally quietly. I hear Claudia and the dottore make their way out of my room and shut the door. I don’t bother to turn and look.

“How long was I sick?” I ask in a low voice, gently rubbing my thumb over his cheek.

“Too long.” He says nearly inaudibly. “You laid there for four days. I know; I counted. And," he added after a beat, "Worried.”

“I can tell.” I reply softly. “You look terrible.” He smiles wider while gently running his fingertips down the side of my face to my chin.


	42. Intermission: Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!!
> 
> fanfiction.net is buggy and won't let me upload this on there. I hope those people will forgive me...

 

Shock.

Anger.

Panic.

Finally, relief.

And still, there is nothing that I can do to make it better, to make her better. Sitting here in her room, watching her fevered ramblings, I only wish I understood what she is saying.

For four long days I sit here watching over her for as long as I am able. Niccolo understands and only calls on me when necessary. Pantasilea spends much of her time here, as well. Claudia is fond of kicking me out of the room as often as she can while the two women take turns at caring for their sick friend.

Once Daniela dropped back to sleep, the dottore checked her leg before leaving.

“No! no.” A tumble of words I don’t understand spill from her mouth. Her ragged shouts break me from my thoughts and I turn to look at her. “no….” A desperately whispered plea falls from parched lips. Her head rolls back and forth on her thin pillow with her face caught in a grimace. Seeing the wet cloth pushed to the side from her tossing and turning, I automatically pick it up, wet it, and gently wipe her face and neck. Rinsing it out in the bowl beside me, I squeeze out some of the excess water and lay it on her forehead. A quiet sigh escapes her mouth and she settles down into a deeper sleep.

The door opens behind me. My heads turns enough to see part of a familiar red and brown lace skirt around my raised hood.

“How is she?” Claudia asks quietly. Her footsteps enter, the door shuts, and she moves closer to me.

“She is sleeping soundly.” I feel one of Claudia’s strong but slim hands come to rest on my right shoulder. “Her dreams trouble her, though.” My head shakes in frustration as my voice fall silent.

“She is strong, Fratello. Madre says she will come over, later today, for a while. Pantasilea should arrive soon.” She says softly. “The dottore says he will be back, later, to tend to her leg.”

“Bene.”

“You need sleep.” She says kindly. “Go. I will stay with her.” I stubbornly keep to my chair, quietly regarding her sleeping face. “Fratello mio, I know you are worried. We all are.” The soft concern in her voice is replaced with firm determination as she continues. “But you must take care of yourself. The Brotherhood needs you, too.” She pauses briefly to give my shoulder a strong squeeze. “You have not left this building in three days and much of that time was spent in this room. Go to the roof and get some air. Go get some sleep. I await your return.”

Reluctantly, I stand and silently make my way to my room. With the beak of my hood pulled low, few offer more than a small smile in greeting and none get a response. I know what they are all saying: their best Assassin is brooding and blood will soon be spilt.

My feet bring me to the door of my room and I let myself in, shutting the door behind me. My room is nearly as basic as Daniela’s with its plain wooden walls and simple wooden furniture. The main difference is the size; it’s nearly three times bigger. There’s a large sturdy desk along the south wall, two simple wall sconces frame it up on the wall. A large oil lamp rests, nearly empty, on the right side of the paper-covered desk. A comfortably padded chair rests infront of the desk. The walls are adorned with a few portraits that Leonardo painted of my long-gone family: Petrucchio, Federico, Giovanni. A fresh pang of loss flows through my mind at the thought of Uncle Mario.

Niccolo insisted that I have a large comfortable bed, so it sits by the south wall and I am appreciative for his forethought. An armour stand sits in a corner by the desk proudly displaying my shining plate armour. A number of hooks next to it hold the vicious weapons of my trade. Someone thoughtfully set up a bath and filled it with steaming water.

Wearily shedding my robes and remaining weapons, I silently thank whoever thought to arrange this gift and gratefully slip into the near scalding water. With my arms resting along the rim of the white porcelain tub, I lean my head back (eyes closed) on its high back and let the heat seep into my skin. I spend the next several minutes languishing in a near sleep-like state.

The rapidly cooling water rouses me enough to finish getting cleaned up and climb out of the, now too cool, bath.

Pulling on loose pants and shirt, I take a few steps and collapse in the middle of my bed. I close my eyes and tug the blankets over myself. Sleep takes its hold, soon after.

 

My slumber is interrupted by movement in the hallway and my eyes blink open. Something’s changed. Confusion mars my face while I look around my room. Seeing nothing out of p… who? A frustrated sigh slips out as I push myself up to sit. The stubborn woman is curled up at the foot of my bed wrapped in blankets. One bare foot is poking out of the cocoon. Her sleeping face is turned towards me with one hand pillowing her right cheek on the bed. Her eyes are still dark with exhaustion. Her dark wavy hair sticks out all over from so long in bed.

Scooting closer to where she lays, I reverently brush the strands that cover her face. A pleased hum echoes up her throat as her eyes slowly open.

“Ciao, bella.” I say softly, customary smirk firmly in place.

“Ciao, Ezio.” Her eyes look around and then go large. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on your bed.” She says while trying to push herself up and off said bed. Unravelling the blanket some, I notice that she only has on a short sleeve shirt and shorts; both beige.

“Nessun problema. Come lay down with me.” I reply. “I think we can both use more sleep.” I wait for her to smile in agreement before moving up to the head of the bed to lie on my back. She wastes no time in snuggling down with me: her head on my left shoulder. Her left arm and leg make themselves comfortable on me. A bit of shifting and I have the blankets settled over us.

Feeling my body’s further demands, I soon fall asleep lulled by the warmth of her embrace.


	43. Chapter 43

“What do you mean I can’t go take a mission?” I demand firmly while marching through the ground floor of the hideout to the stairs up to the roof. My foot falls make my presence known by the faint echo of each step. Boots in the 1500’s just don’t make enough noise when you want each step to echo.

“Just that: you cannot.” Ezio growls firmly, matching pace, behind me. His feet make barely a whisper, in comparison to my purposefully heavy treads.

“Pray tell, why?” I shoot back over my rigid left shoulder. Shoulders stiff with tension, I keep my hands fisted at my sides while I make my way to the stairs.

“Because,” His voice sounds rough to my ears before my right shoulder is grabbed and I’m spun around to face him. “You are not well enough.” He half yells from just inside my personal space. I dimly register that we’re stopped just inside the hall way leading to the tunnels under Roma.

“It’s been three days!” I yell back at him while pushing my hood off my head. My gold flecked brown eyes glare hotly up at his, still hooded, face. I shrug off the hand still on my shoulder and rest my hands firmly on my hips.

“Three days of you falling on your ass!” He retorts hotly with his left hand gestures sharply at me. “I had to carry you the first day and much of the second.”

“I feel fine!” I growl angrily.

“You nearly died! The dottore said you have to go slow for at least a week.” His voice matches my growl and I watch him cross his arms, his hands fisted.

“WHAT?” My voice screeches out an octave higher than usual.

“You heard me.” He snaps back sharply.

“What the hell? I feel fine, Ezio!” Still angry, I bring my arms up to cross them over my robed and armoured chest.

“And three days ago you woke from what you called ‘Sepsis’; fever, delusions, and an infection.” He pauses briefly to take a deep breath before continuing. “On the first day, I carried you when you had the need to move. On the second day, I helped you walk around the hideout. On the third day, I walked behind you and caught you on several occasions when your knees gave out.”

“I’m telling you, I feel fine!” I shout for the third time, if a touch petulantly.

“You are not!” He shouts back with his left hand pointing in my face. Resisting the urge to bite the waving finger that is dangerously close to my nose is harder than I imagined it to be.

“What? Is the honeymoon phase done, already? We haven’t even fucked, yet, and you’re already telling me what I can and can’t do!” I holler right back at him. Judging by the stunned look on his face, I just gave him his first real bit of impertinence. Good. People in charge need the odd verbal smack, now and again.

Taking advantage of our momentary silence, Niccolo speaks calmly with his eyes shifting between the two of us alternately.

“If I may, Ezio, Daniela, there is but one solution to this.” He patiently waits for both of us to turn to look at him, tempers firmly leashed, for now. “I propose a race from the ground in the center of the Colosseum to the top where the Eagle roosts. Would that suffice?” He asks firmly. “Besides,” He continues with a touch of mirth. “I believe you have scared the new recruits more than enough for one day.”

“When?” I ask quietly with sparks of anger still making themselves known in my voice.

“Now would be best.” Niccolo says authoritatively. “This must be settled soon. The Brotherhood does not need fighting in its ranks.” With a gesture towards the underground tunnels he continues. “Come, Daniela, Ezio.”

I let out a sigh of resignation and follow along behind the two men, one of which I would still like to exchange a few words with.


	44. Chapter 44

The sky is cloudy when we emerge from the tunnel just south of our destination. An hour long walk through dank tunnels is not my idea of fun. Ezio takes the lead and we all move between the old arches to the middle of the huge circle of stone arches.

“Now,” Niccolo starts speaking, “the goal is as I said. Go from the middle, down here, to the top, where the eagle roosts, to win.” We come to a stop near the middle of the ring. “Daniela, you have spent some time on these walls with Matteo, correct?” he inquires of me.

“Yes.” Part of me flinches at the mention of my former teacher’s name.

“Bene. Take a few minutes to look around and then you two will start.”

Looking around, part of me marvels at the architecture that has stood the test of time. True, some has fallen, and more will fall, but much still stands. The triple later of stone arches and roof stand an impressive 48 meters high. Moss and grass decorate many of the partially fallen roof sections. My eyes pick out a few possible routes to the top. An eagle’s cry turns my head to see it majestically circle a few times before roosting on the Northern edge.

“Pictures do not do this place justice.” I murmur to myself as I slowly relax and just take in the surroundings.

“You have not been here, before?” Ezio asks quietly, off to my right.

“Not before I was pulled to this time, but, Matteo brought me, once.” I say absently, flinching at the memories his name invokes, again. My eyes continue to drink in the sight of the massive structure around me.

“It can be a difficult climb. I would understand if you do not wish to continue with the race.” He says trying to sound nonchalant, though; I can still hear the underlying concern in his voice.

“Excuse you?” I ask in partial disbelief while twisting around to face him directly. “What the fuck makes you think that I’d back down because it will be difficult?” I question him sharply, some tension returning to my shoulders.

“Because you cannot win.” He replies with equal force.

“And that means I shouldn’t even try?” I retort incredulously. “You know that I really do like you, Ezio, but, I really don’t like your ego.” Pausing, I look to Niccolo and continue speaking. “Il Mentore, I am ready. Let’s do this shit.” Turning away from both of them, I set my sights on my chosen path up the ruins and patiently wait for the go ahead. Focusing on the task at hand, I ignore the mutters from the peanut gallery.

“Bene.” Niccolo sounds almost amused by our exchange. “Are you ready, as well, Ezio?”

“Si.” I hear him grumble in response.

“Vabene.” He pauses briefly. “Three, two, one, and GO!”

Sprinting towards the north side of the amphitheatre, I can hear Ezio veer off to my right and immediately begin to scale the moss covered stones. Quickly reaching my desired spot, I scramble up the first ring of ancient seats and onto the remains of its awning. I can feel my legs start to burn while my arms stretch for the ledge to the second tier. After pulling myself up, a dizzying lightness forces me to lean my back on the wall next to me. A couple deep breaths later, I resolutely shake my head and force the sensation away.

Pushing myself from the wall, I climb onto a broken awning support post and take another deep breath against the rising sense of weakness. Carefully, and as fast and I can manage, I make my way across several other broken posts until I’m at the level of the top of the second tier. With my head starting to swim with dizziness, once more, I force myself to make the short jump to the outer ring of the Colosseum. Landing with a grunt, my legs give out, and I find myself on my hands and knees.

Crawling weakly, my dizziness comes back with a vengeance, my vision goes black, and I collapse limply onto the cool stone of the amphitheatre’s third tier.

Loud, panicking voices intrude on the blackness pervading my mind. Gentle, callused fingers alternate between stroking my left cheek and my hair. A drop of water splashes onto my right cheek and I can smell a faint scent of salt. Slowly blinking my eyes open, Ezio’s relieved smile is the first thing I see. My lips stretch out into an answering smile.

“Hey.” I whisper, not bothering to move from lying flat on what feels like rough stone.

“Ciao.” He responds softly, now using both hands to stroke my cheeks, hair, and shoulders.

“This seems to be happening too much, lately.” I say sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“I did not want this race, Daniela; I merely do not want to see you hurt. I am not afraid of the world, Bella. What I fear is a world without you.” Hands cupping my face tenderly, he leans in to give me a kiss that reminds me why I put up with his stubbornness.


	45. Chapter 45

“You are doing well, Daniela,” Tiziana says, “but you need to try to relax more when you take their purses.” She smiles encouragingly while leaning her left shoulder on the alley’s wall. Her eyes track a few people walking the market. “You are too tense.”

“I know.” I grumble unhappily. “It’s just not a skill that I ever thought I would need.”

“All you need to work on is making yourself appear as if you belong there. Confidence is the key. Those ‘vibes’ you have said that people give off, you have to fool their senses into thinking you are harmless.” Tiziana’s words sound so simple, yet this is harder to do than a leap of faith.

“I know.” I say with frustration. Pacing back and forth at the mouth of the alley, I run my fingers through my too-long hair while pushing my hood back. “It’s just a whole lot easier said than done.” Looking around us, men and women dressed as labourers pass by the end of the alley where we’re talking. The odd pair of guards bully their way through the crowds.

“And that is why we practice.” Tiziana replies with a patient smile. “As you have said before: Practice makes perfect.”

The glint of nude steel catches my eye from the direction of the river and I move from the mouth of the alley to get a better look. Tiziana follows and goes quiet pointing out the horse drawn caged cart surrounded by guards. A quick head count tells me that two patrols are escorting the small wagon. Their dark red and black uniforms identify all of them as Borgia and their fisted swords paint them as scared.

“Who,” I whisper to Tiziana, “do you think could be in there?”

“I do not know.” She replies quietly. “Whoever it is, the guards are scared of them. Do you see their weapons out?” I find myself nodding at her words. The escorted wagon slowly makes its way past our position. All I can see of its prisoner from our position on the ground is him or her lying down wearing white bloody clothes and black boots. There are too many people and guards moving around to get a good look.

“Think we should move higher? Just to see who it is?” I ask a little louder while turning to look at my teacher. She remains silent for several seconds with a thoughtful expression. “What is it?” I question with concern.

“Do you know of anybody else working this area this morning?” She inquires with her eyes wide open and watching me closely.

“Not really. I may be close to Ezio but that doesn’t mean he tells me stuff.” I reply before continuing slowly. “Why?” She remains quiet and sighs. A piece clicks into place. “Do you think it’s one of the Brotherhood?” I feel the blood drain from my face as I remember the brief flash of white bloody clothes lying down on the cart.

“Yes.” She responds firmly. “We have to move fast. You hit the rooftops and get ahead of them. I’ll see about a distraction.” She pushes me into action and I quickly scale the wall of the alley.

Heart pounding, I immediately bolt across the rooftops to overtake the thankfully slow moving cart and escort. My legs pump feverishly as I propel myself from one roof to the next either by leaping or by rope bridge. Several connected rooftops later, I skid to a stop noting that the guarded cart is still some ways behind me.

I franticly search the dirt-packed street to find Tiziana. Several heart-thumping minutes slip away until I pick her out just as she approaches a group of courtesans. She must be able to feel my rising panic, as after she hires Claudia’s ladies, she looks up at me and signals for me to wait. Pulling out my crossbow, I quickly load the first bolt in the slot and wait for the signal.

My eyes flick back, briefly, to see that the cart is steadily getting closer to our position. Turning back to my teacher and the ladies, I watch her give instructions before she is moving off to wait for our targets. The courtesans move onto the road when I see the cart turn the final bend to where we are. Tiziana slips away and I quickly lose track of her.

I take a deep breath and hold it a few seconds before letting it out. My nerves are jumping, making my fingers jittery. I take a few long, deep breaths to try and settle them while I wait for her signal.

The courtesans languidly display themselves in the middle of the road as the guards draw near. Their flirting laughter reaches my ears as I watch them writhe sensually, focusing on the guards in the front of the caravan. I peel my eyes off of their show to see Tiziana now a few meters behind them: watching. Our eyes meet and she raises her fisted hand above her head. It’s time.

Quickly lining up and firing my first shot, a brute twitches violently to fall with a bolt between his shoulder blades. Tiziana runs in, drops a smoke bomb, and I lose sight of her. Pained screams tell me where she moves, in the cloud. The guards not caught in the smoke quickly draw their weapons and look closely for anything moving out of the smoke. I load another bolt and aim, my second shot perforates the neck of the brute guarding the door of the man’s cage. Seeing the smoke cover dissipate enough to show Tiziana’s lethal dance, I toss in another bomb which explodes to blanket the area in smoke, once more.

Shouts of alarm draw my attention to the pair of agile guards in the troupe. Shit, they’ve spotted me. Sheathing my crossbow, a grim smile stretches my lips as my heart beats a quick staccato in my chest. Drawing a pair of throwing knives, I take careful aim, and launch them at the pair of agiles. The first one jerks and falls to the dirt with a knife buried in his chest. The second, however, doesn’t, and he reaches the relative safety of the wall leading up to the rooftop I’m perched on. Taking a few quick steps back, I grab my crossbow from my back and try to load a new bolt into place.

“There she is!” My eyes snap back up to see his head above the edge of the roof. My crossbow is not loaded yet. Time seems to slow as I abandon the crossbow and take a step closer to his body coming up to my level. With my left leg planted near the edge, my right leg swings back.

“Four!” I holler out before my right leg comes forward with all the strength I can muster. A sickening crack echoes out and his head snaps back when the toe of my boot catches him just under his chin. His hands spasm on the stone roof for a few seconds before going limp and I grimly watch his falling corpse hit the packed dirt. “Numbskull.” I grumble lowly while panting lightly from the rush of the quick fight.

“There is no time, Daniela.” Tiziana calls out, redirecting my focus to her. Any remaining guards are either writhing in the dirt with mortal injuries or are dead; their blood painting the ground dark. “Get down here. I think they are waking up.” I see her reaching into a pouch for her lock picks.

Nodding, I carefully make my way down to the ground. Climbing down is always much slower than up. A couple minutes later, I join Tiziana at the cage’s door as she convinces the lock to turn. I notice the size of his bound hands and his Master Assassin robes. His hood still obscures his face.

“Can you shift him so I can pull him out?” I ask with concern.

“I should be able to.” She responds. “We will have to hurry, though. He looks gravely injured.” Tiziana pulls the door open and climbs in with him. I reach in and use my hidden blade to slice the rope holding his wrists.

Waiting at the open door, I watch her carefully reach under his right arm to carefully reach an arm around his chest. Nearly his whole right side is covered in blood. A deep groan echoes up his throat when Tiziana gently rolls him to his back on the cart. His hood flutters and falls back, revealing his face.

“Ezio!” I cry out in shock. Tears run down my cheeks as I scramble to get myself into the cage.


	46. Chapter 46

“Ezio?” I ask with concern, my voice rises in pitch. I’m crying, but ignore it. Carefully checking him over, my now blood-covered hands find a shoulder and thigh wound on his right side. They look like bullet wounds from which blood still oozes.

“Daniela, sweetie, we must go.” Tiziana cuts in urgently. I brace myself as the cart lurches into motion.

“I know.” I reply shakily while quickly wiping my face. “There’s no way we can carry him.” Pulling out a throwing dagger, I use it to cut most of his shirt off and ball the cloth up for padding. Next, I pull off my half cloak and cut wide strips off of it.

Tiziana carefully leads the horse in a wide circle, bumping the cart over the fallen guards.

“Merda. Move, People!” I hear her shout as the ride smoothes out. A quick snap of the reins and we’re moving a bit faster weaving our way through the streets back towards home. Thankfully, the ride is not far.

Grabbing a strip of my cloak, I work one end around his thigh and pull it through so the tails are long enough to tie off. Pressing the ball of shirt to the gouge in his leg, I tie the makeshift bandage as tight as I can. Ezio tenses with a pained hiss while his left arm jerks. Looking at his face, I notice his eyes open slightly.

“You awake, Ezio?” I say while studying his face for a reaction, finding none. “This will hurt.” I tell him anyways. Quickly folding up a few strips of fabric, I press it firmly to the oozing wound on his shoulder. The cage door clangs open and closed when we cross the southern arching bridge to Isola Tiberina. Ezio lets out another groan of pain as the wagon clatters over uneven cobblestones.

Feeling the cart come to a stop, I look around nervously before recognizing the stairs next to the hideout.

“We are as close as I can get us.” Tiziana says, hopping down from the driver’s seat to circle around to the cage’s door.

“Somebody please tell me that figlio di puttana tower is burning.” Ezio growls weakly from where he lays.

“You’re awake.” I say in relief. My right hand touches the side of his face. “Not if you didn’t light it. I’ll talk to Machiavelli.” I reply before continuing. “For right now, we need to get you up the stairs and inside. Can you move?” I ask softly while moving around to kneel above his injured shoulder. Tiziana stands by the door, holding it open with one hand and steadying the wagon with the other. The horse moves around, jostling the wagon. Tiziana quickly moves to calm it before returning.

“Si.” He weakly answers, his face white. When he starts to roll to his left side, I do my best to support his back and help him sit up. His loud breathing reaches my ears.

“Here, Ezio,” Tiziana says offering an opened flask. “Have some water. Catch your breath.” Wordlessly, he reaches out to take the flask and bring it to his lips for a few seconds before handing it back. The flask is capped and hidden away once more. “Now, shift yourself this way and Daniela will help you from behind.”

A deep grunt of pain reverberates in his chest as he turns his body to stick his legs out the door. Leaning back on my offered support, he relaxes for a few seconds before gathering himself to continue. His breathing sounds harsher to my ears.

“Tiziana, can you run get some help? We’ll never get him inside on our own.” I ask, looking at her. She nods and swiftly runs up the stairs, turns left, and disappears down the short hallway. “Why don’t you just relax for a minute, Ezio, until she comes back with help?” I inquire soothingly while gently rubbing his back and avoiding the bloody area.

“No.” He growls as he stubbornly pushes himself to the edge of the cart. I quickly slip my arms around him and pull back slightly to keep the idiot from falling on his face. I can hear his breath almost whistling from between clenched teeth.

“You stubborn ass.” I chide him gently and keep my grip on him. “You should have let me out first.”

“I am fine.” He growls through gritted teeth. I feel him resolutely shove my arms away from his midsection and I reluctantly let go. I watch him push off the wagon and stand on his left leg; his right only touching the ground by the toe of its boot. Leaning heavily on the wagon, his white-knuckled left hand grips the bars of the door.

His right leg haltingly moves forward and up a step. I squeeze out of the cage and position myself to try to catch him when he moves. A pained grunt escapes his mouth. His injured leg begins to buckle and he quickly brings his left leg to its level. After he lets go with his left hand, he lifts his right foot, once more, and sets it on the next step. As soon as he shifts his weight to move his left foot to the next step, his right leg buckles and I helplessly watch him crumple on the unforgiving stone steps. A brief anguished sound rips out of him as he lands mostly on his right side.

“Ezio!” I gasp, seeing him fall. Barking my knees on those same rough steps, I quickly kneel by to his head on his right. “You stubborn ass.” I repeat, grumbling in exasperation with my heart still racing in my chest. “It would not have killed you to wait for help.” I chide him while brushing his hood back. His left cheek pressed to the steps, I watch as his eyes slowly close; his body relaxed in unconsciousness. “I am SO going to yell at you when you wake up.” I mutter at him as the sound of many soft soled feet patter down the stairs to where we are.


	47. Chapter 47

The slight creak of a door behind me pulls me from my musings.  
“Here you are. I have been looking for you, Daniela.” Ezio says, relief evident in his tone. “It is time.” I hear him continue along with the click of the door latching.  
“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” I ask softly. Relishing in the lightening horizon, my eyes take in Roma as it wakes to a new day. The southerly wind blows my too-long hair around my face. The sounds of the pigeons chattering amongst themselves reach my ears.   
“Most of the day, I would imagine. I do not know what is in that lair to slow my progress.” He replies nonchalantly and I can only nod my acceptance: work comes first. “I will return soon.”   
“I know.” I reply while turning to look at him standing just inside my personal space. “It’s been nice having you here this past month even if you spent much of that time in bed.” An impish grin stretches my lips after my teasing remark. Memories of my time spent on bed rest from nearly two months ago flit through my mind.  
“Hush you.” He mock growls before his hands grab my waist and pull me closer. The sun crests the horizon lighting his face hidden by his hood. All I can do is grin at his warm expression until our lips meet and my mind goes foggy for a few precious moments. My fingers find their way under his hood and become tangled in his hair, mussing it up. His arms tighten around my body with his left moving up my back.  
Reluctantly pulling away but not letting go, his left hand comes up to cup my cheek. “I will not be gone long.” He says sounding rougher than before. The low sun on his face makes his eyes sparkle. His trademark smarmy grin adorns his face.  
“Try not to get shot, hmm?” I sass lightly to him. Reluctantly, I untangle my fingers from his hair and let my arms hang at my sides.  
“They would have to catch me, first.” He cockily replies, lets go of me, and takes a step back. “You will wait up for me, si?” He lewdly inquires.  
“Uh huh. Sure. I’ll get right on that.” I retort dryly with an arch look.   
“Arrivederci.” He says with a wider grin before leaving the way he came with his cape billowing out in the breeze. The door closes after him with a definitive click.  
Turning back to look across the horizon, my mind wanders over the months spent living in renaissance Italy.  
Life here is hard. It’s more dangerous than my wildest dreams.   
Every day is kill or be killed.   
But I’m at peace.  
The sun’s rays shine over the rooftops of Roma like bright shafts of light. The dark shadows can only cede to their domination.  
The bright light of the sun shifts and becomes brilliantly white, forcing me to squint and turn my face away. The bright light feels like needles as it spreads to encompass the whole sky. All I can do is cover my eyes with my left arm and step back a few paces from the edge of the rooftop. My mind briefly feels like it’s being pulled apart just as the blindingly white light fades to black and I collapse without falling.


	48. Intermission: Broken

Letting out a groan of pain, I slide my left leg over the rump of my horse and drop to the ground. I rotate my shoulders to stretch my sore muscles while the late afternoon sun shines down. Dilapidated, half burnt palazzos of past Popes are not easy to navigate when the beams you land on collapse. Strangely, no Followers of Romulus appeared in the ruins. Clutching the desired scroll and key in my right hand, I resolutely make my way into the hideout: head up and shoulders back.

Trudging down the stairs, Niccolo is there to greet me in his habitually polite way, face set with a welcoming smile. His ornate shirt and coat with tall black boots are as pristine as always. Does he ever get his hands dirty? Not nearly as often as me, I know that. Smiling in return, I part ways and head up to my room.

Thoughts of Daniela pass through my mind: her laughing with Tiziana and the deadly aim of her crossbow. Memories of Daniela’s soft lips on mine follow soon after. I suppress a groan not born of pain. I cannot wait to kiss those lips, again.

A grin stretches the scar on my lips when I find myself at my door. Entering and looking inside yields an empty room. I usually find her in here reading when she is not training. She might be in her room, I reason to myself. Where she is still learning, she does not usually go far without Tiziana or another recruit. My feet carry me through the halls, once more, to her door.

A few firm knocks and I open the door to a second empty room. Seeing her sword and throwing knives on her desk is troubling. An assassin without his weapons is not a good thing. Leaving and shutting the door, I head back down to the main level.

After a quick search, I still do not find her. Other recruits give their greetings and continue on with their business.

Concern mars the faces of each person I stop to question. Our love is no secret. How can it be? From what little she shares of her home, I do know that people are much more open. Her displays of affection tell everybody what she has yet to put into words.

The recruits tell me that they remember seeing her at breakfast but not after. Am I the last to see her? That cannot be possible. Her smile betrayed no ill intent.

Niccolo tells me that she is not on a mission. Perhaps she did not have time to let him know? I can only hope this is true.

The pressure of so many eyes and so much sympathy forces me from the first floor and I find myself on the very roof where we parted. Standing where I left her, I don’t see any signs of a fight.

Focusing my gaze in that other vision grants me the ability to see her footsteps take on a yellow haze. After a moment of concentration, they flare brilliantly against the rooftop and I can see that they do not approach the edge for a leap. Neither do they return to the door. If she is not up here, then, where did she go? A seed of worry forms in my chest at the thought of her missing.

_______________

A week passes and still there is no word. Each day the search grows more desperate.

Claudia’s girls can either find nothing or their regular customers are simply not talking.

My search leads me in winding paths all over the city and countryside until I find myself studying the next Borgia tower: Francesco da Velletri. Isolated as he is south and east of Caserma di Alviano, I know he has nowhere to hide. I will be heard.

Ignoring the few recruits that follow me, I walk right in the front door and it becomes a near instant blood bath. The guards charge my defences only to meet the cold steel of my blades. Militia guards turn tail and run. The visible displeasure on my face turns to Francesco and the remaining few guards. With their faces twisted into expressions of rage, they charge me as one while roaring their outrage to any who will listen.

In the end, I curb the desire to express my frustrations on Francesco’s uninformative corpse and return to the hideout after lighting the tower. My recruits follow in silence. I do not know, or care, what they think.

_______________

A second week passes and Niccolo will only give me a few recruits to help search for Daniela.

Turning to La Volpe for help, my hope rests with his thieves and extensive network.

Claudia still has no luck. Her girls can only push so much before their clients get suspicious.

Refusing to give up, I spend my waking moments running and leaping across the rooftops of Roma: searching, listening, questioning. And still nothing. She has become a ghost.

Odd jobs in and around Roma help to keep me grounded; letters from Copernico and targets to be assassinated. They remind me of my duty to the Brotherhood but they do not take away the growing despair.

_______________

A third week passes and I can feel my resolve starting to crumble.

Claudia still has nothing to give me other than sympathy, which I do not want.

La Volpe only learned that the Borgia are still looking for her since we rescued her from Belardino. This news serves to send a fresh stab of loss through my chest. If Cesare and Rodrigo still search for her, then, where could she be?

Seeing clouds moving in from the sea from my room’s window, I quit the hideout and find a rooftop garden to attempt to console my despair with my memories of her. Perhaps it is ironic that the rain is unusually strong, this day. And perhaps not. The rain’s patter lulls me into a restless sleep.

_______________

A fourth week passes and it is all I can do to keep moving forward. My time spent searching for Daniela is less and less as time passes.

I no longer bother to go see Claudia or La Volpe. After this amount of time with no results, why would they have one now? Much as it hurts to admit that, I must continue with my work.

Niccolo continues to push me into doing what I do best for the Brotherhood and I can only agree, reluctantly. This is why I am now bound for Caserma di Alviano with the setting sun inching its way ever closer to the horizon.

The horse’s smooth trot relaxes my tired muscles and my right hand absently reaches up to rub the middle of my chest where a phantom pain still resides. It is a pain that no health potion can soothe. A pain that is constant and distracting. My recruits work hard when they are with me because of it.

Pantasilea requests my help with an issue she is having. I can only hope it takes my mind off this pain, if only for a little while.


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiyya. Just wanted to let my readers know that I currently have 2 other chapters made up for Lost but it’s likely that the updates will slow down. I recently found out that I’m pregnant and so the time I normally commit to writing is now a forced nap time. I am still writing some, but, not very fast.

A sneeze wakes me up when a delicate tickle brushes my nose. My eyes open to the sight of blue sky with some clouds and I realize that I’m stretched out on my back on the ground. A stiff breeze blows pieces of grass and leaves across my face. That explains the sneeze.

My body feels heavy when I move to sit up and look around. Seeing the sun leaning towards the west tells me that it’s late afternoon. The immense Colosseum stands tall to the west. I’m in Antico District, then. There are crumbling ruins with the odd tree poking out, and fences and roads circle the moderately sized grassy field that I find myself in. White, yellow and blue flowers are out in full bloom around the edge of the field. How did I get here?

Didn’t I wake near here a year ago?

Quickly patting myself down, I find my robes and some weapons in their proper places but I’m missing others. Memory jogged, I remember leaving my sword and throwing knives on my bed. I must have left my coin purse there, too, because it’s not where it should be.

Raising my hood, I push myself up to stand, gather my bearings, and start walking due north to Caserma di Alviano. They will have a horse I can borrow to get back to the hideout. Maybe I can make sense of this strange day.

The road I’m approaching is fairly busy. There are a number of men, women, and children walking along. Some of them have crates or large vases and only a few are riding horses.

“You there.” I hear a man call out from behind me along with the sound of a horse. I stop walking and turn some to see their face. “Daniela?” He asks sounding surprised as he comes up along my left side. “Are you well?” I recognize his scarred chin and crooked nose, though he looks a little pale.

“Ciao, Bernardo. I’m fine.” I say with a smile while noticing just how pale he is. “What’s wrong?” I ask with concern.

“I am just surprised to see you here.” He replies quickly with a slightly too-wide smile. “Come.” He holds an arm out to me. “I will take you to the Barracks. That is where you are heading, si?”

“I am, thanks.” I say with relief. “I really didn’t want to walk all the way there.” Reaching out, I grab his forearm with my right hand and swing myself up behind him on his horse. Once settled, I loop my arms around his waist to hold on lightly.

Bernardo gives the reins a flick, a nudge with his feet, and we’re moving; first a trot, then a run. He’s strangely quiet but I don’t mind. Maybe he’s getting sick.

My mind tries to go over what happened, but I can’t seem to remember after the sky went very bright. I don’t think anything happened. I feel like I only napped for a couple hours, but, the sun moved too far in the sky for that. I can’t wait to be back in my room so I can think this through. I remember being on the roof… and then I wasn’t. Is this some sort of strange dream?

“We have arrived.” Bernardo announces patiently. I’d been lost in thought and missed out arrival. That wasn’t good. I need to get somewhere safe and think this through.

“Grazie, Bernardo. Now I can borrow a horse and head back to the hideout.” Relief fills me while I am sliding off the rump of the horse and turning away. I hear him quickly follow suit. Before I can take more than a couple steps away, I feel him gently grasp my left shoulder.

“It has been some time since you visited.” He cuts in pleading slightly. “Pantasilea would love to see you.” Though it is not unusual for Pantasilea to want to sit and talk, it is unusual for Bernardo to be so insistent. I look back at the horses and think of Isola Tiberina.

“I really do have to get back.” I reply insistently but he refuses to let me leave, his hand still on my shoulder..

“Trust me?” He requests poignantly with a gentle tug towards the main building in the middle. I note that his face has recovered some of its lost colour during the short ride here.

I let out a sigh of resignation while nodding my acceptance and follow along after he lets go. Something’s going on and I don’t like it.

“What’s going on, Bernardo?” I demand testily as we approach their front door.

“I.. I cannot. Mi dispiace, Daniela.” He hesitantly apologizes before continuing. “It would be best if you talked to Pantasilea.” We come to a stop at the door to Bartolomeo’s home. “I just want to say that I am very happy to have found you.” He says looking at me with a relieved smile that does nothing to settle my emerging irritation.

Opting not to respond, I open the door and enter. Bernardo follows and I hear the door shut.

“Hello? Pantasliea?” I call out loudly to the seemingly empty house. A loud clatter echoes from the kitchen with a shocked gasp.

“Daniela?!” She calls back before appearing in the hallway speed walking towards me and enfolding me in a strong hug.

“Umm, ciao?” I say uncertainly with no small bit of confusion. My arms slowly come up to return her embrace.

“Where have you been?” She asks worriedly. Pulling back and moving her hands to my shoulders, she looks earnestly into my eyes. “Ezio has been beside himself with worry.” While I’m gaping like a beached fish, she turns her head to look over my right shoulder and continues, “Bernardo, please ride for Isola Tiberina and speak with Niccolo. Only tell him that I have need of Ezio. Go now and make haste.” I hear the door open and Bernardo’s hasty steps before the door closes, again.

Now I’m completely confused and my arms fall back to my sides.

“What in the blue blazes is going on?” I question a touch sharply while trying not to gape like the aforementioned fish.

Letting go of my shoulders and firmly taking my hands, Pantasilea looks at me with a strange combination of sympathy and joy.

“Please, come with me.” She insists while dragging me down the hall a short ways and into the sitting room. “It will take some time for Ezio to arrive. Hopefully Bernardo does not say that you are here.” She says absently as she leads me to a long upholstered couch still holding my hands. Letting go, she gracefully takes her seat and pats the cushion beside her, which I take. “This may be a bit difficult to understand, but, you went missing for a month.”

“But, no. Ezio left for a Lair of Romulus just this morning.” I state in denial with a few slow shakes of my head.

“He did.” She agrees and continues patiently. “A month ago.” Studying her closely, I can see that she is worried as well as relieved. “I have never seen him so driven, before. He looked everywhere. We all searched.” She sounds calmer, now, but still sorrowful. It’s as if the memories affect her deeply. She turns to pour a drink for both of us, and we fall silent for a few moments.


	50. Chapter 50

The door banging open startles me from my thoughts of what to ask.

“Pantasilea?” It’s Bartolomeo and he sounds concerned.

“In here, il mio amore.”

“Everyone is moving about with excitement after Bernardo left going as fast as the horse would carry him.” He continues as I hear his steps coming closer to the room we’re in. “What is going…?” He starts then stops as he turns the corner to see me sitting quietly on the couch with his beloved. With his jaw hanging slack with shock, his face pales slightly as he stares dumbly at me.

“Ciao, Bartolomeo.” I say shyly. “I.. ah.. hear I’ve caused quite a fuss.” I say uncertainly, starting to believe Pantasilea, now.

“Daniela. We thought you had gone home.” He says breaking out into one of his huge smiles. He quickly approaches me and pulls me up into a spine-cracking bear hug. “It is good that you are here.” He says warmly.

“Oof! I need my spine to live, Barto.” I wheeze to him before he lets me go and I sit back down.

“So where did you go?” He questions while taking a seat on an upholstered chair across from the couch.

“I wish I could tell you, but I can’t.” I say softly.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” He retorts in confusion.

“Just that. For me it felt like I slept for a couple hours. I do not know what happened.” I reply placidly.

“That does not make much sense, Daniela.” He says with more confusion. His eyebrows pinch together and I can almost see the gears turning in his mind. “Were you taken? The Borgia?”

“No, nothing like that. Sometimes it’s easier to just accept that that’s the way it is. It doesn’t always have to make sense.” I reason. “I would really like to be alone for a bit, though. This is a lot to take in.” I say a touch pleadingly.

“We only wish to look out for your wellbeing.” Pantasilea gently reprimands and I sigh quietly in resignation. This is, after all, a different time. Questions need answers.

Sometime later, I manage to extract myself from their interrogation and head to my room. Closing the door to my place of solitude, I let out another sigh I held in while talking to Pantasilea and Bartolomeo. They mean well, but, I can’t handle any more of their questions. Are you well, Daniela? Where did you go? That’s odd, are you sure you do not remember? Are you tired? I’m to the point that one more question from them and I’ll be responding with random colours.

Unclipping the straps for my crossbow and hidden blade, I drop both onto my desk and move over to open the window. Grabbing and dragging my desk chair over, I set it close to and facing my open window. I plop myself gracelessly onto it before crossing my arms and leaning them on the sill. My south-facing window gives me a decent enough view of the setting sun, if I turn my head.

I slowly slouch over to rest my chin on my folded arms to watch the play of colours playing in the sky: pale blue to dark blue and yellow to orange. Watching the sun slowly inch its way into hiding, my eyes slide closed without a fight. A nap sounds like a great idea.

Gentle fingers stroking my hair pull me from my dreams and I smile with contentment. I love having my hair played with. An involuntary yawn threatens to unhinge my jaw while I stretch from my seated position. Finally my eyes blink open and I see Ezio’s tiredly smiling face from where he’s kneeling next to me on the floor. I can only smile back.

“I looked everywhere and still I could not find you.” He whispers while reverently cupping my face with both hands. His face shows some of the pain he still feels from my absence. “I thought you had left me.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I knew what happened.” I let my smile drop with my whispered apology. My brain absently notes that he only wears his inner clothes and boots. How long had I napped while he was here?

“I spoke with Bartolomeo and Pantasilea after they showed me you were here. I do not understand but maybe you will remember later.” He replies quietly while his thumbs stroke my cheeks.

“It’s possible. I just don’t know. What I want right now is to know that this is real. That you’re real, and that I’m here with you.” Reaching up, I thread my fingers through his hair to gently massage his scalp. The tie holding his hair releases with a little effort and his shoulder-length hair cascades down to cover my wrists. His smile becomes more loving as he draws me in for a fiery kiss. After the third, I stop thinking and just feel.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has implied sexual content.

Waking up, I immediately notice that there is something heavy on my right shoulder with something else circling my waist. Memories of the previous night remind me of our activities and bring a satisfied smile to my face. I guess it’s true what they say about men with big hands and feet.

Dawn is not long past with the sun fully risen. The day is still young and it’s not a bad thing to be pinned on my back to the bed by someone with such a smoking hot body.

Soft breaths of warm air glide across me with each breath he takes. I bring my left arm over to run my fingers through his hair and push it back off his face. The blankets cover from the lower half of his back and down. His right arm twitches and flexes slightly while he slowly stirs. A giggle escapes me when he gives an unintelligible grumble and attempts to pull himself closer than we are. I’m not quite sure how we can get closer than skin to skin, but, he’s welcome to try.

“Buon giorno, mia amore.” I murmur soothingly with my fingers trailing through his hair, down his neck, and back up for a repeat. A shallow thrust of his hips alerts me a good reason for his grumble. “I guess someone is happy, this morning.” I say, giggling around my teasing words.

“Mia amore, I am not awake yet and you are teasing me already?” He grumbles onto my neck before tilting his face up to lightly mouth the soft spot behind my ear.

“You’re awake.” A say happily as I continue to tease him, “You’re just not fully conscious.” My breath comes quicker as he continues his assault on my neck. His right leg makes itself comfy between mine and our ‘Good Mornings’ turn more passionate.

Seconds after his weight leaves my right shoulder, I feel a rush of warmth flow down my arm before biting back a squeak of surprise and pain. I absolutely despise the feeling on pins and needles! Squinting in displeasure, I gingerly bring my right arm across my chest and briskly rub it with my left hand.

“Daniela?” I hear Ezio ask in concern.

“Fuck me, I hate it when a limb goes to sleep.” I grumble coarsely.

“I thought that was what we were doing.” He says cheekily and I glare blackly up at him while flexing the muscles in my pained arm. While he waits for me to regain my circulation, he lazily reminds me what my offending limb interrupted with a combination of lips, fingers, and sensitive areas. This man is the personification of too much of a good thing.

I’m soon lost in a morass of sweaty panting with wordless begging for completion. His experience needs no embellishment. Clinging to each other, we both find passionate bliss in the other’s embrace that overwhelms and crashes over our senses.

Urgent knocking interrupts our post-coital bliss and brings us back to the present.

“Yes?” I call out with a more-or-less steady voice. Ezio reluctantly moves off of me and lies down on his left side with his back to the door. His right hand idly traces invisible patterns on my chest and abdomen. Every so often his fingers thread themselves through my hair and over my cheek before resuming their previous patterns.

“There is a messenger for Ezio.” I hear Pantasilea’s voice say through the door. “We can break our fast together and then see to business.”

“Grazie, we will be down soon.” Ezio says over his shoulder.

Hearing her departing footsteps I groan and turn my head to look at his amused face.

“Where I come from, on days like this, one would call his or her boss on the phone and said that we were sick and couldn’t come in to work.” I state in resignation. I turn onto my right side to face him and run my left hand through his hair before trailing my fingers lightly down his muscled bare chest.

“Come.” He grins his trademark smarmy grin as he slides off the bed, stands, and gives me an eyeful. “Much as I would love to stay in here with you, we must go.”

_Too much of a good thing._

Watching him don his multi-layered robes, I quietly marvel at the play of muscles shifting under his skin. They really are something to see. They are another thing to touch.

_Google that phrase and I’m sure his face will pop up._

As each weapon of his trade is attached to his person, I find that it only enhances his appeal. Mom did like to tell me not to get involved with a ‘bad boy’. Oh well.

_That’s not necessarily a bad thing, though._


	52. Chapter 52

“Gods Damnit!” I swear violently when burning pain erupts from my right bicep. “Not again.” I groan with gritted teeth. Feet stumbling, I collide with the left brick wall of the alley when my knees threaten to give out after the initial shock. I can dimly feel blood dribbling down my arm to the elbow. Gingerly touching the injury, I’m relieved that it’s just a graze and not serious.

“Stop, Assassino!” Several irate guards yell out from not far behind me spurring me into action. I push off from the wall with my left arm, regain my balance, and throw myself into a sprint.

The bricked alley ends in an enclosed area modestly decorated by a pair of white trellises covered in rose vines with red blooms. A small fountain, simply decorated, offers a sense of peace as the water splashes into its bowl. Small patches of grass circle the trellises situated in the middle but separated by a few paces. More patches of grass poke up at the corners of the small courtyard and around the few plain wooden benches along the walls.

Panting my way into the courtyard, I run to the opposite wall and turn to face the oncoming guards. I count no less than six guards, four militia and two brutes, run or clamber into the courtyard. I notice two militias stand back and pull out a pair of loaded crossbows. The other four line up and draw their swords.

A trickle of sweat slides down the back of my neck. I bring my left arm up and eject my hidden blade while drawing my sword with my other hand. My left foot slides forward and my knees bend slightly while my body turns so that my left shoulder is forward.

“Il Capitano is eager to meet you, Puttana.” One of the brutes says boldly. “Come quietly and we will not hurt you too much.” Throwing his arms up and out, it’s like he dares me to retaliate. In that moment of gloating, a feathered bolt pierces the right eye hole in his helmet and he gives an unfettered shout of agony. Blood starts to dribble out from under his helm as he falls to the ground, writhing.

I love good timing.

The other guards look to be caught between morbidly watching their colleague cry on the ground and looking around for the archer. One by one, they focus on me and my naked steel. The faces that I can see twist with mounting anger. The crossbowmen raise their weapons in my direction.

Too late.

Five white-robed figures drop from the three storey rooftops to sheathe their hidden blades in the necks, backs, and heads of their chosen victims.

I quickly turn my head away with a grimace. Nobody ever says that I have to like what the Brotherhood does. At least, that’s my hope.

Moving my right arm to sheathe my sword reminds me of my own seeping blood staining my sleeve. My hidden blade slides back into its casing with a faint snick. Reaching behind my left hip, I pull out a length of clean, dark cloth from a pouch on my belt. Gingerly bringing my right arm around, I try to get a look at the grazing wound on my bicep. The fabric of my robes sticks to my arm in places from dried blood.

“It does not look bad.” Ezio’s voice interrupts my concentration and my head comes up to watch his approach.

“Not really, no.” I agree placidly. “Stings like a bitch, though.” I grumble after while turning to look at my arm, once more. Lightly touching the edges of the jagged cut, I wince a little at how messy it is. The sting is slowly losing its sharp edge to a constant dull throb. Taking the strip of cloth from my hands, Ezio wraps and ties it around my arm firmly. “Thanks.” I say appreciatively.

“Come.” He motions for me to follow along. “We shall go see the Dottore on Isola Tiberina. You might need stitches.” He moves around the sprawled corpses and into the alley. The other Assassins are notable by their absence.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are always welcome, but Comments make me smile. ;)
> 
> Thank you for visiting!


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